


Loving the Heartless

by FlameWolf



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006)
Genre: Angst, Birth, Bondage, Complete, Dominance/submission, F/M, Fingering, Humiliation, M/F, Masturbation, Non-human relationship, Oral, Pregnancy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sado-Masochism, Tentacles, handjob, original character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameWolf/pseuds/FlameWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fierce female pirate is on a quest to save someone most consider unable to be saved. Will she succeed or will the world slip into darkness because of her actions?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Race

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything or anyone from Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did I would have a mansion and 12 cars by now. This is just for fun and I make no profit from this.

Ancient wood creaked as the bow of a large ship crested over a gentle wave.  A huge crew scuttled around the dark wooden deck of the vessel as they strung up some sails and took down others.  Salty, cold sea water splashed onto the gnarled wood of the creaking but sturdy deck.  Near the back of the ancient ship, on top of a high platform right above the captain’s quarters, stood a wild haired female with her fingerless gloved hands on the large wheel.  The wind whipped her long black hair in front of her pale face and she brushed it behind her ear irritably.  Her turquoise eyes gleamed in a determined way as she glared down at her bustling crew.

The stiff, cold wind blew her long, deep red jacket around her legs.  She wore a darker red shirt, black pants and a pair of knee-high, black boots with a low heel.  A rather old looking, deep emerald green sash was tied around her waist, holding a long, sharp cutlass against her left hip.  “Nearly thar me lads!  Nearly thar,” she snarled in an encouraging manner, turning her cumbersome vessel slightly to the left.  Just over the horizon of the restless sea a small speck got closer at an agonizingly slow rate.

She had been sailing for months, going on nothing more than rumor and gut instinct.  Only a few hours behind her sailed the ‘Black Pearl’, sailing to the same destination as she but with a different purpose.  Gritting her teeth, she glared at the slowly growing speck that soon became an island.  She  had to get there before Jack Sparrow!  “Cap’n!” came a gruff, male voice from the deck below her perch.

“Aye, Joe,” she responded, fixing her steely sea-green gaze on the man below her.

“Are ye sure ye should be doin’ this fool thing?” shouted the bearded first mate.  He had been with this fierce woman since the beginning of her near two decades career.  He was the closest thing she had to a best friend and he took the role of her confidante very seriously.  As far as Joe knew, the rest of the motley crew felt the same.  Their fearless captain had gotten them out of some near impossible jams before, proving again and again that not only was she extremely intelligent but lucky as well.  Not one man of her crew had ever been lost, making being a member highly desirable.

“Aye Joe.  I must.  I’ll not see him slip any further,” she responded, looking up to see that the island ahead had barely gotten any closer.  With a frustrated growl, the pirate female gripped the wooden wheel tightly in white knuckled hands.  Would the accursed island never get any closer?!  The Pearl was right on her heels, she could almost feel Jack’s hot breath on her neck.

“Cap’n Flame, he can no longer be saved.  Ye know that” Joe called up, not caring if the crew around him heard.  Their captain had never hidden anything from them, no matter if the mission would end in their own deaths.  She had always believed in full disclosure, giving her crew the option to opt out of missions without consequence.

“I know but I have to do it,” she responded, wishing her ship could move faster.

“He’s not the same man ye saw in passing all those years ago,” Joe yelled, running a burly hand through his short, black hair.

“I know the story Joe!  Tis me own life and this is how I choose to end it!  Its not as if I wouldn’ta ended up in the Locker soon anyway,” the surly woman snapped, her ebony locks flying into her pale face again.

Joe looked up at his beloved friend and captain with sorrow in his gray eyes.  Not too long ago Flame, the ‘Wolf of the Seven Seas’, had fallen very ill.  She had been unable to hold down most foods and was stricken with almost weekly fevers.  After much begging and pleading from her crew, the reluctant sea captain had pulled ashore in Tortuga to seek the best doctor.  Closing his sad eyes, Joe remembered when she had come back aboard the ‘Full Moon’.

Her large, black captain’s hat was tilted in such a way that it hid her face from the crew as she slowly came up the gangplank.  Something in her posture caused alarm to flow in a wave from the crew that first saw her to the rest of the crew.  As she stepped onto the deep brown deck of the ship, she stood in place but didn’t lift her head to look at the crew.  “I have the ‘Wasting Disease’,” she murmured quietly before heading to her cabin.  A somber sheet of sorrow had remained over the crew for the rest of the day.  No one survived the ‘Wasting Disease’.

Wiping an errant tear from his stubble covered face, the thickly muscled pirate headed away from the stern.  In all honesty he would rather her die while she had life in her body.  Not lying in a bed too weak to even lift her head as her body slowly wasted away.  He and the rest of the crew would make damned sure to get her the last thing she wanted before she left this world.

After an endless time of sailing, the old ship finally landed on the white sand of a small island.  Not even waiting for the gangplank, Flame decided to slide down the anchor chain.  Once her feet touched the soft, almost sugar-like sand, she ran off down the left side.  Ignoring the cries of the crew still trying to disembark the ship, the determined pirate continued to run even though she was unsure of what she was looking for.  All she had to follow was where her heart was telling her to go.  Her instincts had never once been wrong and she wasn’t about to doubt them now.

After a few minutes of running down an expansive beach, Flame found herself at a derelict and dangerous looking shipwreck that just barely poked free of the water.  The dark, almost black color of the rotting wood stood in stark contrast to the crystal blue waters that nearly surrounded the wreck.  The decay at the bow of the ship almost made it look like the gaping maw of some beached sea monster.  Looking at the intimidating looking wreck, the seasoned female just knew the object she sought was resting somewhere within.  Probably heavily guarded to boot.

Not wanting to waste time by waiting for her crew to catch up, the ever impetuous female simply leapt into the water and waded out to the looming wreck.  Once she reached the barnacle covered carcass of a ship, she grabbed onto a nearly rotted rope and began to climb. 

Surprisingly, the old rope held her weight and she was able to clamber onto the half submerged deck.  The soft, rotted boards sinking and squelching beneath her booted feet, the captain headed toward the back part of the ship which was mostly under the water.  As she waded knee deep into the icy, briny water and stared down at the submerged captain’s quarters, she found herself wondering exactly how long she could hold her breath for.

Joe came running up to the black shipwreck, a frantic look in his smoky eyes.  To his immense relief, Flame was swimming back to shore with a strange looking urn.  The thing was unnaturally shaped, more resembling a piece of ebony coral than a piece of pottery.  Sprigs of seaweed seemed to even be growing from the horrible thing and a strange noise could be faintly heard coming from it as she got closer.  “Cap’n!  Are ye alright!” Joe called through cupped hands, the six crewmen that had kept up with him stopping behind him and panting loudly.

Flame looked back at the ship one last time, a shudder running through her soaked frame.  She had been through an emotional hell that she wouldn’t have wished on her worst enemy but with good reason.  The specters guarding this object had wanted to be sure of her intentions before simply handing it over.  Hearing Joe’s gruff, concerned voice calling for her, she whipped around and waved once curtly.  That was when she felt the water begin to pull backward from her legs.  “He’s coming…” she whispered softly, her voice full of awe, fear, hope and another emotion she wasn’t willing to admit to yet.

Joe and the crewmen behind him watched in horror as the sea itself seemed to pull away from the female captain.  “Cap’n!  Come ashore quick!  Its not too late!” Joe called out to her, panic filling her voice.  Although he knew her goal, he found himself reluctant to just leave her to her fate.  Without her he had doubts the ragtag band of pirates would even have the will to go on.

The air going dead still, the bow of an ancient, barnacle covered ship began to rise up from the blue depths.  Turning to face the huge ship as it rose from the sea, Flame’s turquoise eyes took in the sight of it.  The ship was larger than even her own and it’s black wood sides creaked as it leveled out on the now still ocean.  The tattered, almost ghostly looking sails fluttered in a phantom wind and a thick, otherworldly mist surrounded the looming, wooden beast.  Cannons bristled on both sides of the almost ethereal behemoth and she caught glimpses of the crew bustling around as the thing turned slowly towards her.  “Cap’n!  Hurry!” Joe screamed, moving to pull her from the sea if he needed.

The fiery pirate captain turned to fix her first mate with a harsh glare.  “Stay thar Joe.  I don’t want to but I won’t hesitate to use me cutlass on ye,” she growled, her sea-green eyes flashing dangerously.

“There must be a better way Cap’n!  He’ll not treat ye with any kindness!  You’ll be stuck in a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone for an eternity!” Joe pleaded, tears beginning to roll down his stubbled cheeks.

“I know Joe but I have to try.  The very balance of the sea depends upon it,” Flame growled out, clenching her fingerless gloved hands into tight fists.

“G’luck Cap’n!  Maybe I’ll see ye on the other side,” he called to her, going pale as he noticed the long boats starting to come towards the shore from the massive ship.

“I hope not Joe.  Where I’m going isn’t meant fer good men like yerself,” she whispered sincerely, turning to face the long-boat that she knew was coming towards her.  Clutching the coral-like urn tightly to her chest, Flame hoped against hope that her crew was fleeing.  If they weren’t gone by the time the long-boats reached her, then they would surely share her fate.

The creatures pulling the boat through the waters were varying degrees of hideous.  The one on the bow of the ship seemed to have the head of a Great White shark and a deformed, lumpy fin growing out of his back.  His black, dead eyes fixed on her with a sneer, his thousands of triangular teeth nearly bursting from his mouth.  A man with a moray eel for a head on the right side just behind shark head had his eel twisted around to look at her.  The other horrors rowing the ship were too horrible for her to even guess what they were supposed to be and a helpless shudder of horror ran through her frame.

As they drew closer and she made no move to escape, it became clear that her actions were confusing the shit out of the crew rowing the boat.  The shark-head at the front of the boat seemed to almost be looking at her with confusion, commanding his crew to row faster.  “Som’thin ain’t right,” she heard him faintly growl in a garbled voice.

“Oi!  Miss Sea Wolf thing!  Why don’t ya come ashore here and we can just have a palaver over that there object you hold in your possession,” came a smooth, very familiar baritone voice from behind her.

Rolling her sea-green eyes, Flame didn’t even turn her head to acknowledge the speaker.  “I refuse to acquiesce to your request, Captain Jack Sparrow,” she hissed, spitting out the word ‘captain’ as if it tasted bad.  She untied the deep green sash around her waist and wrapped it around the coral-like urn before wading deeper into the water.

“Hold lass!  I beg ye!  If ye give him his freedom it’ll be the end of everything!” came the desperate voice from the shore.

“I’ll not give his life over to the likes of those who would only seek to destroy him,” she hissed, holding the urn above her head as she waded deeper and deeper into the icy waters.

“Are ye so eager to meet your death lass?” the shark-head growled as the long boat pulled up to her.  Then his black eyes went to the old looking, deep emerald sash wrapped around the coral urn.  The ebony, soulless orbs narrowed as best they could, his gills flaring slightly as he bent forward to examine the items she held.

Flame didn’t budge, her sea-green eyes fixed on the shark’s bottomless orbs.  “I got the urn with his heart,” she whispered, answering an unspoken question.

“And where did ye get that sash,” the thing growled, grabbing her by her thin arms and pulling her roughly aboard the long boat.

“I think, from your reaction, that ye know very well where this came from,” she responded softly, her eyes meeting his without wavering.

“Give ‘em here,” he snarled, reaching to take the almost alive looking urn.

“Over me dead body,” she growled in return, her hand going to the hilt of her cutlass.

“That it will be, soon enough.  Keep yer trinkets then.  Ye won’t have them fer long,” the thing growled in a clotted voice, lowering its face so it was mere inches from hers.  She could smell rotted fish on his breath and recoiled in disgust.

“I wasn’t plannin’ on it beastie.  It matters none to me whether you believe me but I got this urn with the full intent of returning it,” the fiery pirate captain growled through gritted teeth, not taking her eyes off the monster in front of her.  An odd garbled, choked croaking noise came from the thing as it rocked back and forth.  She realized, with a start, that the aberration was laughing at her.

“Aye, yer right, I don’t believe ye and neither will he.  Pull to the boat boys!  He doesn’t like to be kept waitin’,” he bawled out, watching the four creatures at the oars as they began to make their way back to the ship.

“He’ll be anxious to deal with this one,” the thing croaked in a demented version of a chuckle.

All too soon the long boat had pulled up next to the ship, another that had just been lowered making its way to shore to chase after Jack.  A useless gesture all things considered, the pirate had made tracks as soon as she had made it to the long boat.  Heavy, old, oiled ropes were flung down to the boat and the shark-head tied one to the bow.  A creature that looked like a twisted hybrid of a sea urchin and a starfish attached the other rope to the stern.  The moray eel headed person next to her extended his eel towards her slightly, the beady eyes of the animal examining her closely.

Once the ropes had been attached the boat lurched suddenly before being heaved up towards the deck.  Inhuman grunts of effort greeted her ears as the horrible crew heaved them upward.  “Put yer backs into it ye lazy slugs,” came an english accented voice with an odd slur, making shivers run unbidden up and down Flame’s back.  As the boat came level with the deck, she was unceremoniously lifted up by the moray eel person and dumped onto the black, rotted smelling deck.  The whole ship seemed to reek of the deep seas and rotting flesh of both fish and human.  The smell alone was nearly enough to make her vomit what little she had been able to eat for breakfast.

Desperately trying to keep her precious food down, Flame straightened.  In front of her stood Davy Jones himself, in all his horrible glory.  Looking a bit like an offspring of Cthulhu, the imposing captain’s tentacle beard curled and twisted as his icy, almost dead eyes stared at what she held in her hands.  His whole outfit was encrusted with barnacles and blackened seaweed, his left hand, which had become nothing more than a crab claw, clicked irritably as he limped toward her.  The reason for his limp was the fact that his right leg was nothing more than a crab leg and he had to use a rotting, barnacle encrusted stick as a sort of cane.  “Where did ye get these?” he asked harshly, an odd popping noise coming from a fleshy valve in his left cheek.

He reached forward with his right hand, his tentacle index finger reaching out to caress the deep emerald green sash tied around the semi-living urn.  His hate filled eyes snapped to her quickly, a frown deepening on his slimy brow.  “I retrieved the urn from the black ship yonder,” she explained pointing to the half sunken wreck.  A cold wind blew through her soaked clothes, making her shudder helplessly.

“Aye, I put it thar meself.  Now, where did ye get this,” he hissed, his tentacles writhing angrily on his chest as his tentacle finger rubbed the sash.

“Ye gave it to me a long time ago when ye came ta port fer yer limited furlough,” she answered, her sea-green eyes meeting his unwaveringly.  Recognition flashed in his whitish blue eyes for a moment before it was replaced by rage.

“And I suppose ye’ll be wanting a reward fer the fetchin’ of me heart,” he snarled, withdrawing his hand from the deep emerald silk of the sash.

“Nay, I merely wanted to return what was yours,” she replied, using her perfect english to get across that she wasn’t some dumb pirate.  She had actually taken the trouble to educate herself and only used the pirate vernacular to make it easier on her less educated crew.  With a small but sad smile, she offered both the urn and the sash she had tied around it.

Jones looked down at the twisted, black urn that was wrapped tenderly in the ancient sash before taking it gently into his one human hand.  “Do ye fear death?” he hissed quietly, his eyes flashing as he switched the urn to rest under his left arm so he could grip the hilt of his cutlass.  The whole crew watched silently, tension crackling in the air as the guide of the dead glared down at the once powerful pirate captain.

Knowing why he asked this question and the import of answering correctly, the unflinching female met his eyes with hers.  “No,” she answered simply, a smirk playing on her lips as he moved to draw his sword to take her life.  In a flash, she met his blade with hers; a determined look on her face.

The crew began to press in on them, murmuring dangerously as they began to draw their own swords.  “I have never feared death Jones but I would join your crew if you would have me,” she offered, merely holding off his blade with her own and making no move to attack him.  For a breathless moment Jones only kept pressing forward with his blade, a glare on his octopus-like face.

Then he backed off, sheathing his sword as he laughed viciously. “ I don’t have any claim to yer soul and yet ye’ll stay here willingly!  Well, I’m not one to turn down free work.  But be warned, show one speck of startin’ a mutiny and ye will become nothing more than the rest o’ them,” he growled, waving to the crew of undersea horrors that surrounded them.

The proud female did something she never would have done for anyone else, even would have killed someone for just suggesting it.  She got down on one knee and bent her head in total submission.  “I Flame, the ‘Wolf of the Sea’, swear my unwavering loyalty to you until I am of no more use to you,” she whispered just loud enough for Jones to hear over the restless crew.

“Then welcome aboard the ‘Flying Dutchman’.  I hope ye enjoy yer stay lass, ye won’t ever be leavin’,” he snarled, before letting out a booming, evil laugh.


	2. The Swirling Vortex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Apologies for those eagerly waiting for updates. I have been working on ‘Tainted Love’ the most and the other fics have kinda fallen behind. I will update each one as I can.

A gaunt, noble looking man sat on the soft, white sand of the beach, his haunted, stormy blue eyes scanning the uneasy waves of the ocean.  The man had high cheekbones and a noble nose.  His black hair was slicked back and just long enough to touch his neck.  There was almost a sad air around the man as his eyes continued to scan the choppy, open sea.  A heavy, black pirate coat with gold trim and gold buttons lay discarded in the soft sand beside him, the heavy lapels fluttered slightly in the strong breeze.  On top of said coat lay a large, black pirate hat.

A young, pale woman with black hair watched the man with curious turquoise eyes.  The man, while looking every bit like a high born nobleman, was dressed in normal pirate gear.  He wore a heavy, tan shirt, black pants and a heavy belt that held his sword to his waist.  The only odd thing about him was an intricately woven, emerald green sash wrapped around his waist.

Taking her eyes off his attire, the young woman began to make her way towards him.  Pirate or no, this man had been sitting alone on the beach since dawn.  The longer the day had gone on, the more depressed the man looked and she found herself simply unable to ignore his pain any longer.  Stopping a few feet away from the man, who didn’t so much as notice her; the ebony haired woman cleared her throat softly.  “E-excuse me sir, are you waiting for someone?” she asked in a timid voice, a nervous smile on her lips.

The man jerked slightly, looking up at her with pain-filled, blue-grey eyes that were brimming with tears.  His haunted, lonely eyes roved up her form as he quirked a dark brow at her attire.  The woman before him wore a black, long sleeve shirt and a pair of dark red pants.  On her feet were a pair of knee-high, low heeled boots.  The mere scrap of a thing only looked sixteen.  “Aye, been waitin’ f’r many a year now,” he sighed in a voice so full of pain and longing that it took the woman’s breath away.

Something about the sheer amount of heartbreak in the man’s voice filled her with sympathy and she lowered herself to the soft, warm sand beside him.  “Do you mind if I wait with you?  You look like you could use the company,” she offered, looking out towards the open sea.  She felt the man beside her shift as he chuckled almost bitterly.

“Do as ye please.  I’ll not be good comp’ny,” he grumbled in a lightly accented voice.  The woman only smiled and began to talk of the sea as well as the things she loved about it.  Soon the man beside her joined in and they began to talk in earnest.  It wasn’t too long after that, that the pair began laughing and joking like old friends.

As the sun began to set, the man staggered to his feet; a pained look on his face as he gave the ocean a final sweep with his gaze.  “She really isn’t comin’.  I shouldn’t be surprised, she hasn’ shown up once in all the years I’ve been with her,” he hissed in a broken voice, running a shaky hand through his short, black hair as he bent to pick up his hat and coat.

“Well, the next time you come to port how bout I come to meet you?  You can still wait for this mysterious woman but at least you’d have company,” the oddly dressed woman offered, getting up and brushing the sand off her pants.

“I’ve heard tha’ one b’fore,” he spat bitterly, placing his large, black hat on his head and flinging his thick coat over his arms.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you, no matter how long it takes you to come back,” she assured, waving to him before she ran off to her home.

Davy Jones sat on the edge of his barnacle encrusted bed and held his slightly slimy, pulsing face in his tentacle covered right hand.  A low groan of pain left him as the heart within the urn shuddered.  “Jus’ bein’ near the accursed thing be makin’ me feel,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his tentacle beard slithering in agitation.  With a groan, the monstrous Captain grabbed his twisted, barnacle encrusted cane and got unsteadily to his feet.

“Tis that whore’s fault.  Her and them memories she brings,” he snarled, the valve on his left cheek making a popping noise.  His crab claw clicked irritably as he limped toward the door of his cabin.  The black, rotted wood of the deck squelched under his crab leg as he stumped along.

Flinging open his rotting, barnacle and starfish encrusted door, the irritated captain’s dead, cloudy blue eyes scanned the shifting hulks of the monsters cleaning the deck.  The tentacles hanging from his upper lip curled in anger as he was unable to spot his quarry for several moments.  “Bootstrap!” he hollered, leaning heavily on his cane.

The old, half rotted looking pirate pulled himself from the hull of the ship with a groan.  A starfish along with a number of mussels and barnacles clustered all over the deformed, melted looking left side of his face and his black hair hung around his face in scraggly curls.  Pieces of the ship itself stuck out of his sea life encrusted clothing.  A black cap sat on the top of his head, offering little protection from the cold gale that constantly followed the ship.  “Aye Cap’n,” he croaked in a rusty, ill-used voice.

“Where be our new crew member,” Jones snarled, his long index tentacle wrapping tightly around the twisted wood of his cane.

“She be below decks sir, cleanin’ the brig,” the mere shadow of a man croaked, swaying slightly as the ship crested over a particularly big wave.

Without another word to the shell of a pirate, the lovecraftian captain lurched towards the large hatch leading down into the dark bowels of the Dutchman.  A furious glare fixed itself on his slightly slimy face as he limped down into the hold of the ship.  There, near the cages that held prisoners and uncooperative crewmen was the accursed female.  She was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the rotted, black wood of the deck with an almost fanatic fervor.  Her long, black hair hung in her face, obscuring just how pale she looked.

Flame’s stomach heaved uneasily as she tried desperately to keep from dry heaving.  Mornings were always the worst for her and she often had to spend them in bed back on her own ship.  Trying to concentrate on cleaning rather than her clenching stomach, the pirate female was completely unaware that Davy Jones was coming up behind her.  That is, until she felt a tentacle wrap around her neck to yank her to her booted feet.  Then the room spun briefly as she was turned to face the glowering captain, not helping her nausea one bit.

Too occupied with trying to not puke on the captain’s mismatched feet, she didn’t notice the deep rage burning within his corpse-like eyes.  So when his tentacled right hand shot out and again wrapped around her throat, she was taken completely by surprise.  Gasping but making no move to claw at the thick, slimy appendage around her throat, Flame could only look at him with confusion.  What had she done to bring his wrath down on her?

A snarl fixed on his octopus-like face, the beastly captain slowly brought her towards him until she was bare inches from him.  “Why be ye so eager to be on my ship,” he hissed, suspicion and rage whirling in his milky eyes.

“To maybe be of service.  We were friends once,” she gasped, barely able to drag in breath as he held her a few inches above the rotted planks of the floor.

“I don’ believe a word outta yer lyin’ mouth!  Yer here ta make me remember!  Ta make me feel!  Well I won’ have it lil girl,” he roared, throwing her as hard as he could.

Flame slammed into the back wall of the room they were in, the breath getting knocked out of her from the force of the hit.  Crumpling into a gasping pile on the floor, the stunned pirate looked up at the monstrous captain.  His murky blue eyes glared at her, a steely glint to them as he limped slowly towards her.  As he closed in, the female made no move to run; merely making a gagging noise as he wrapped the tentacle around her neck and lifted her.

The tentacles that made up his upper lip curled and twisted as he sneered up at her slightly blue tinged face.  “Give me one good reason ta not spill yer guts on the planks,” he snarled, the valve in his left cheek popping.

It was all Flame could do to keep breathing as the tentacle squeezed cruelly around her neck.  Just as her vision was about to go black she found herself being thrown into an empty cage.  Gagging and coughing desperately, all the pirate could do was lay on the ground and watch as the captain shut the door.  “I’ll be comin’ back fer ya t’night,” he snarled ominously, whirling around and stumping his way back up.

Unshed tears filled Flame’s sea-green eyes as she continued to gasp and gag, red sucker marks showing up sharply on her pale skin.  Wincing, the ex-captain got to her fee to look around her new home.  Despite how outwardly calm she was, on the inside she was nearly panicking.  How long was Jones going to keep her in here?  Was she even going to survive the night.  Stamping on her rising panic with a snarl, the fierce pirate squared her shoulders and stared at the stairs leading to the deck.  No matter what happened tonight, she would take it like a pirate.

The day had crawled by slowly, none of the crew coming down to check on her.  Thankfully, due to her condition, she was used to going several days without food.  To pass the time, Flame began to count the scratches made in the wall by other prisoners.  The marks seemed to mark the passage of time for the occupants, some of them seeming to be here for several years.  As the marks went on in one particular set, they got more and more erratic; as if the person making them was slowly going mad.  Pulling away from the wall with a grimace, the ex-captain turned to look at the stairs leading up.  A chill ran up her side as she started to question if Jones was going to come back as well as just how long she would be kept in this cage.

As she watched the light pouring down the stairs fade into darkness, a small flower of panic began to bloom in her chest.  Was he going to kill her?  Was he going to keep her here?  Would she die an even slower death than the one her disease doomed her to?  Trying to keep a tight grip on her courage, Flame barely kept herself from pacing.  If she started pacing, she was certain the panic would overtake her.  She would be damned if she showed a scared face to the beastly captain.  When he came down, she would meet him with dignity dammit!

As the darkness grew pervasive and the night wore on, Flame found it harder and harder to keep her composure.  The inky shadows surrounding her almost seemed to have faces and she could almost swear she heard voices whispering to her.  Voices that spoke of horrifying things happening down in these holds.  “Shut up ye bloody horrors!” she hissed quietly, clenching her fingerless gloved hands and gritting her teeth.  The only answer she received was the creaking of the ship.

All of a sudden she found herself snapping awake from a spot on the floor.  Her turquoise eyes stared blindly into the darkness as she tried to remember where she was.  A dull clumping noise was slowly coming closer as she regained her wits.  Slowly getting to her feet, the drowsy female tried to make out where the stairs were in the inky darkness.  The chill in the air nearly made her shudder as she faced in the direction she thought the entry was.

The clumping noise steadily got closer and closer and Flame realized it was the captain heading her way.  Only his odd gait caused that noise.  Gathering all the grit and courage she had as a pirate, the ex-captain squared her shoulders and put a neutral mask on her pale face.  Yet, despite the brave front she was putting forward, she was petrified.  The ghostly voices in the darkness grew scared and silent as the footsteps got closer and closer.  It was almost as if the spirits were still afraid of Jones, even in death.

As the monstrous captain drew closer to the top of the stairs leading down, a ghostly yellow light began to pour down.  All the ghosts in the brig slowly faded away, their voices snuffing out for the time being.  Their fear was almost a living thing and curled around Flame like a thick snake as the teetering light began to come down the stairs.  As the lovecraftian captain came into view, a malicious grin slowly appeared on his face; making Flame’s blood run cold.  “Still righ’ where I lef’ ya, like a good lil gel,” he spat, a darkly evil glee shining in his cloudy eyes.

“And where would I be goin’?” she quipped, raising a brow and gesturing to the bars that surrounded her.  Her response wiped the grin off his face and he began to glare.

“Ye won’t be makin’ jokes after I’m done wi’ ya,” he snarled, placing the lantern on the floor to reach for something on his waist.  The tentacles that comprised his upper lip curled and twitched as he sneered at her.  Then there was a soft thud, followed by a strange slithery noise as something hit the wooden floor.

Flame, who had been more focused on Jones’ face than his hands, found her gaze traveling to his semi-normal right hand.  There, with the index tentacle wrapped tightly around the black handle, was a long signal whip; it’s long, black body trailing along behind him.  Firmly shutting the door on her rising panic, the ‘Wolf of the Sea’ met his gaze steadily.  Jones cracked the whip in response, rage filling him at her lack of fear.

Silence stretched between the two as Flame merely looked at Jones with sad, turquoise eyes.  “Do what ye will but I won’t be screamin’ and beggin’ like a child,” she whispered, her hands curled into fists.

“We’ll see about that,” Jones hissed, his malevolent grin returning.

The whip came screaming down as it cut through the air, slicing yet another wound open on her blood drenched back.  The only sound that left the brave pirate’s lips was a pained whimper.  Her arms were stretched over her head, a thick rope tied tightly around each wrist from the bars of the cage she still occupied.  The rough ropes cut into her wrists as well as cut off blood supply to her hands but at the moment Flame was far more focused on the agony from her back.  Behind her, the monstrous captain swore colorfully as he brought the whip down again.

Jones glared at the blood marred back in front him, his hate filled eyes narrowed to slits.  The fact that she had yet to scream or beg him stop both fanned his rage and made him begin to form a begrudging respect for the meddlesome woman.  Now it was only the anger at what she was making him feel that drove his whip.  Each pained whimper she made felt like it was ripping a piece of his heart out of his chest and he hated it.  He especially hated that he was beginning to feel guilty for beating this female.  With a disgusted growl, he brought down the whip once again; a lot harder than any of the blows had been before.

Despite herself, a scream left her lips as it felt like he had practically ripped a huge chunk of her back off.  A low, shuddering moan leaving her lips, Flame fought against unconsciousness.  Her entire body shook from the pain of that blow as well as all the others she had received.  Panting harshly, she bit her lip hard to bring some color back to her vision.  To her dim surprise, she realized all movement behind her had stopped.

Jones stared at her wound covered, bloody back, a glare mixed with a grimace on his octopus-like face.  The hand holding the whip loosened and the instrument fell to the wooden planks with a loud clatter.  The heart beating in his quarters lurched in its urn, causing a brief pained expression to cross his face.  Then, with a disgusted snarl, he thumped towards her; drawing his sword from its sheath on his left side.  Then, with one swift movement, he cut the ropes holding her up.

Immediately after her binds were cut, she collapsed to the floor.  The motion jarred her wounds, drawing a strangled whimper of pain from the injured woman.  Her vision faded in and out but she found enough strength to turn her head to look at Jones.  To her shock he was now kneeling beside her, his dead eyes glaring down into hers.  Something that resembled guilt briefly flashed in his foggy orbs before full on rage returned.  In a flash he was gripping her face with his half human hand, the long tentacle that served as his index finger tightening painfully.

Then, without a word, he was on his feet and tottering towards the stairs leading to the deck.  Flame watched him until he was gone, desperately trying to ignore the burning agony in her back as well as the feeling of blood pouring from her.  Once the beast had disappeared again, Flame curled into a ball on her side.  The pain wracked her body, causing small shudders to run through her beaten frame.  The involuntary shudders only caused her more pain which caused more shaking.  Taking in a deep breath, the ex-captain desperately tried to still her body.

As she lay on the floor, trying to stop her body from shaking; she felt herself growing cold and drowsy.  Realizing she was about to pass out from blood loss, Flame could only feel some sort of relief.  Dying from blood loss would be a kinder death than what awaited her due to her illness.  Closing her dilating turquoise eyes, Flame allowed sleep to take her.  Feeling as if she was floating on a cloud, the pirate didn’t think this was a bad way to die at all.


	3. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Sorry for the cliffhanger. Jones isn’t gonna make this easy.

Several years passed and yet she kept going back to the same beach, waiting there from dawn until she simply got too tired to safely continue.  She never gave up hope, determined to keep her promise to the sad looking man who waited for the mysterious woman who never came.  Her patience was finally rewarded ten years later, when she got up at the break of dawn and walked to her normal spot on the beach to keep her vigil.

The young female had already resigned herself to another day of waiting for nothing but she had a smile on her pale face.  This time she had even packed a picnic for two, that way if he didn’t show up she would at least have a second meal.  Whistling a merry sea shanty that her father had taught her, the boyishly dressed female made her way to the beach and smiled at the sun in the sky.  If nothing else, it would be pleasantly warm today.  Then she saw something that made her stop in her tracks.

There, on her usual spot on the sand, sat a familiar looking, gaunt man who stared out at the sea.  “Oi!” she called excitedly, embarrassed that she didn’t know his name.  It had simply slipped her mind to ask it before he had left.  The odd nobleman turned to face her, a surprised look on his thin, pale face.  It almost looked like he hadn’t been eating properly or been caring for himself.  There was even a faint dusting of gray by his temples, giving him a tired, forlorn look.

“Ye kept yer word,” he murmured, his voice unsteady as he got to his feet to greet her.

“Well of course I did!  What kind of proper pirate would be if I didn’t?” she giggled, amused at the irony of her statement.  Her strange captain grinned in return, the emotion reaching his grey-blue eyes and warming them as she ran down to meet him.

“Jus’ look at ye!  Yer all skinny and underfed.  You also look like it’s been a dog’s age since you’ve gotten any sleep,” the young woman chastised, slipping into pirate lingo briefly as her sea-green eyes looked him over.  Just that simple statement seemed to rock the lonely looking man to his very core, his haunted looking eyes slipping closed as his grin widened.

“Nay, I’m afraid I’ve been far too preoccupied,” he replied as his eyes slid open and went to the large sack she held in her hands.  The ebony haired female smiled at him knowingly before setting her burden down on the sugar white sand.

“Well it’s no wonder!  What were ye doin’ all these years?” she chirped, humming to herself as she opened the sack and took out a large blanket.  With a quick shake, she spread the tattered, dark red fabric on the sun warmed beach.

“Been wandering the seas mostly, lookin’ fer ways to distract my achin’ heart.  What about yerself?” he asked, his accented voice still jovial despite the tinge of sadness that was now there.  The lanky, noble looking pirate lowered himself to the blanket with a sigh, shrugging off his heavy, black coat and allowing it to fall in the sand behind him.  Once he was settled, he noticed his question had caused an odd reaction in his female companion.

The young woman blushed heavily, fiddling with the hem of her form fitting, red shirt.  “Now I don’t want ye thinkin’ less of me but ya jus’ looked so lonely that I...  I didn’t want to risk missin’ ya when ye came back.  I... I waited here from the time I awoke ‘til the time I was too tired to safely continue,” she murmured softly, slipping into nearly full pirate dialect from her embarrassment.  In an effort to avoid her mysterious captain’s gaze, the flustered female set to bringing out the wrapped bundles of food she had prepared.

“And ye even prepared a lunch fer us both it seems,” her male companion replied, his cultured voice right against her ear as he pressed close behind her; his strong hands briefly covering hers as they halted her movements.

The boyishly dressed woman sighed softly, a faint blush on her cheeks as she smiled shyly back at him.  “Aye, I wanted to be prepared in the event you came as well as the event you didn’t so I packed double,” she replied, her voice low and husky as her entire body began to tingle.  His stormy eyes stared back at her heatedly, briefly going storm cloud grey as his hand settled loosely on her black clad hips.

“Why did ya go through so much trouble fer me?” he rumbled out pulling away from her as a slightly tortured looked came across his gaunt face.  Want was clear in the lines of his face but something was clearly holding him back.

Seeing the look in his eyes, the young female knew instantly what it was that was holding him back.  Her mysterious companion still felt honor bound to stay loyal to the female who never showed up.  “No trouble at all!  I told ya I was gonna wait and I did.  Nothing I wouldn’t do for any friend,” she replied, sitting down on the blanket and offering him a sandwich.

“A friend... Aye, I’d like that,” he sighed, his smile reappearing as he sat opposite of her and gently took the sandwich.

“Some friend I am though, I never gave ye my name.  My parents call me Sarah,” the young woman replied, taking a bite of her sandwich as she offered a hand to her male companion.  The noble looking pirate captain gently grasped it in one of his, his hand warm and soft as his smile softened into something more tender.

“Ye look like a pirate and yet ye don’t even have a pirate name fer yerself.  Since ye gave yer true name, I will give mine as well.  I am called Davey Jones,” he murmured, his smooth, accented voice holding an almost nervous edge as his touch lingered on her hand.  The black haired female only looked at him with a stunned astonishment.

“D-davey Jones...  Are ye... are ye  the Davey Jones?” she gasped out, her voice holding only awe and deep respect; not the fear he clearly expected to hear.

“Aye,” he replied quietly, releasing her hand as he took a bite out of his own sandwich; relaxing slightly when it didn’t seem like she was going to run away.

“So this woman ye’ve been pinin’ over...,” the young woman murmured to herself quietly, her sea-green eyes going to the ocean briefly.

“Aye...,” sighed the guardian of the dead, heartbreak clear in his cultured voice as he took another bite of his sandwich.  Sarah only looked at him with sympathetic eyes before she slowly scooted to sit next to him.

Jones looked down at her with a surprised look, a dark brow quirked slightly at the young female leaning against him.  “I’ll keep ye company until she comes,” the young, pale woman promised, nibbling her sandwich quietly as she rested against him.  The noble-born pirate could only swallow thickly, emotion clear in his stormy eyes as he wrapped an arm loosely around her shoulders.

“Thank ye,” he replied softly, his cultured voice thick and gruff as he briefly rested his cheek against her ebony hair.

All too soon the day was coming to an end.  The sun slowly began to dip below the waves as Sarah and her mysterious captain stood side by side and stared out at the ocean.  “I shouldn’ expect anythin’ else by now,” the guardian of the dead sighed, his voice rough and husky as tears began to slip down his hollow cheeks.  Sarah’s lips pursed slightly in response before she gently slid her hand into his.  The captain jolted beside her as if shocked, looking down at her with a wild mixture of emotions before his hand tightened gently on hers.

The twenty-six year old smiled up at him kindly, before walking in front of him and cupping his pale, thin face.  “I know it may not mean much but I’ll be waitin’ fer ya.  I’ll wait another ten years if I need to,” she whispered, her turquoise eyes swimming with unshed tears as she stood tip-toe to place a chaste kiss on his lips.  A soft exhalation escaped the pirate captain as her lips lingered over his for the span of a few seconds before she began to pull away.

To her shock, his arms wrapped around her viciously tight as his lips fairly crashed down on hers.  His lithe body trembled as one of his hands moved through her ebony locks.  His tongue lapped at her stunned lips, begging entrance which she willingly granted.  Then his tongue was in her mouth, fairly claiming it as he let out a soft growl.  As he continued to kiss her senseless, the young woman found her hands slowly coming up to rest on his back as her tongue began to tangle with his on its own.

Then he broke the kiss with a harsh snarl, his grey-blue eyes filled with anguish and clear need as he rested his forehead against hers.  “The next time I come back, I’ll have a proper pirate name fer ye,” he rasped out, releasing her and moving away as his entire body continued to shudder.  Sarah only watched him, a sad smile on her face as the last vestiges of light left the sky and he stepped into the ocean.  Then, simply unable to watch him leave, the distraught woman let out a quiet sob and ran home.

Jones awoke, a strangled sob leaving his lips as he shot up in bed.  His heart shuddered in the coral-like urn beside his bed, earning a baleful glare from the lovecraftian captain.  The longer he was around the accursed the thing the more he felt.  He was even feeling guilty for his actions against the female in his hold.  Letting out a low snarl of vicious anger, the deformed pirate got to his mismatched feet and grabbed his gnarled, barnacle encrusted cane.  As he placed his large, black hat over his octopus-like head, his heart shuddered again inside the black urn; causing an unwanted flood of guilt to fill him.  “Alright, I’ll go see to her if ye’ll shut up!” he hissed, glaring at the hated object before he limped to his door and fairly threw it open in his rage.

Flame was dimly aware of something wet moving over her still screaming wounds, drawing a pained grunt from the groggy female.  “So yer alive after all,” came an unfamiliar but oddly kind male voice from above her.  Turning her head slowly, the once pirate captain opened her nearly lifeless eyes to look at who was tending to her wounds.  Standing above her was another aberration of the ship but this one looked more human than the others.  Various sea life stuck out of his face and a starfish clung to the half melted right side of his face.  Pieces of the ship itself almost seemed to stick out of his back and his black, stringy hair hung in his face in greasy strands.

“W-water,” she rasped out, her voice barely above a whisper.  Her throat felt like the sahara desert and her throat clicked dryly as she swallowed futilely.  Her seeming caretaker nodded slightly before reaching into a bucket and leaning down to bring a dripping spoon to her slightly cracked lips.

Just as the battered, nearly dead woman was about to take a sip, a loud noise startled both of them; making the strange man jump and drop the spoon as he turned to stare at something.  Moaning as quietly as she could manage from just the pain of moving her head, Flame lifted her head just enough to see what he companion was staring at.  There, standing at the bottom of the stairs and glowering from beneath a slimy brow, was Davey Jone; his half tentacle hand grasping his walking stick tightly.  “Cap’n!  I’m jus’ takin’ care of the young miss like ye told me,” the deformed man in the cage with her stammered, his voice thick with fear.

Flame’s own eyes widened slightly at the sight of the monstrous captain but she just simply didn’t have the strength to feel any fear.  With the dim agony roaring through her back and how weak she felt from blood loss, the ex-captain didn’t have the energy to much care about anything.  With a small, unintentional whimper, the weakened female allowed her head to fall to the damp, rotted wood with dull thud that echoed in the silent room.  “Git out,” Jones hissed as her eyes slid shut in resignation.  He had clearly changed his mind and had come back to finish what he started.

Needless to say, her strange helper was gone within moments; leaving her alone with the silent captain.  The only signal she had of his approach was the thump of his crab leg and cane and he limped toward her.  Instead of feeling fear, the brave female pirate merely resigned herself to her fate.  She didn’t even flinch when the metal door of the cage clanged loudly as it was thrown open.  Instead of begging or pleading, a smile appeared on her strained, pale face as her eyes remained shut.

To her surprise, the odd footsteps stopped right beside her and instead of the finishing blow she expected; she felt an almost gentle touch on the still open wounds on her back.  His tentacle index finger slowly slid over the wounds, soothing them instead of causing more pain; drawing a small sound of relief from the shocked female lying on the floor.  It almost felt as if Jones was using what powers he had to heal the damage he caused.  Instead of questioning it, Flame merely stayed silent and let it happen.

As the slimy appendage slowly swiped along the last of the wounds on her back, the ship jolted violently as if hit.  Hissing harshly, the beastly captain straightened and walked from the room at a fast pace; leaving behind a thoroughly confused pirate female who stared at his retreating back.  As he disappeared up the steps, Flame found herself dazedly sitting up and feeling her back.  All the pain of before had simply vanished along with all the wounds that had once littered her pale back.  A soft, hopeful smile appearing on her trembling lips, the ex-captain got to her feet and began to look for some clothing and a weapon.  From the feel of it, there was about to be a fight.

Jones stood at the helm of his ship, a furious snarl on his slimy face as his tentacle beard writhed below his chin.  Even the tentacles framing his lips snapped irritably as his corpse-like eyes fixed on a familiar black ship slowly circling around his.  The tattered, black sails fluttered in the wind as it’s crew scuttled around to reload the cannons.  “Prepare to board!” the lovecraftian captain ordered, the valve in his left cheek popping from his fury.  His crew of abominations rushed to fulfill his wishes, loading cannons and preparing grappling hooks while Jones turned the ship to meet the ‘Pearl’.

The two ships circled eachother like two giant predators until the ‘Dutchman’ made a sharp turn, colliding it’s side against the rival vessel’s.  Crews on both ships fought to keep their feet as Jones’ crew rushed to secure the Pearl with grappling hooks and thick ropes.  Within moments crews from both ships flooded eachother in a flurry of swords and swearing as both groups fought to overwhelm the other.  Jones glared at the intruders on his ship before drawing his saber-like sword and jumping from the helm to join his crew in the fight for the ‘Dutchman’.

Flame came charging out of the hold dressed in dingy rags she had managed to find, a rusty, dull blade gripped tightly in her right hand.  Her turquoise eyes quickly assessed the situation until she saw Jones fighting a large group viciously.  His blade mercilessly cut through limbs, blood spraying in the air as the hapless victim fell backward screaming.  In the midst of the chaos, the twisted captain didn’t notice Jack Sparrow sneaking off toward the Captain’s Quarters.

Realization flared within her and her heart began to race as the black haired pirate began to run after the captain of the ‘Pearl’.  She had a pretty good suspicion of what Jack was after and she would give her life to protect it.  Dodging expertly around the pirates fighting around her, Flame burst into the spacious room with a low growl just as the dreadlocked captain was reaching for the urn.  Then, in a motion much too fast to see, the woman was launching herself at him; both of them going into a roll along the rotted boards of the cabin.  “Ye can’t tell me ye  still want him to have that after what he’s no doubt put ye through,” Jack gasped out breathlessly as he finally managed to pin her and was now struggling to hold her in place.

The female fought like a wildcat, hissing and arching under him in an effort to throw him off her in any way she can.  “I’d rather see the entire seven seas dead and barren than have his heart in the hands of the likes of you!  You just want to use it to control him, to make him do as  you want,” she spat venomously, her hands itching to scratch the living daylights out of the man currently straddling her.

“Goddammit why!  You little fool!  He has no capability to feel and with his heart out of harm’s way, there’ll be no tellin’ just what he’ll do!” Jack hissed, a desperate look on his tanned face as he looked pleadingly down at her.

“Ye’ll have to kill me before I let ye lay a finger on it,” Flame snarled, her sea-green eyes full of deadly promise as she glared up at the captain who was currently pinning her to the rotting wood.  Then, with a scream louder than she thought she was capable of, Flame surged upward and successfully flung Jack off her.

Getting to her feet and moving between him and the almost living urn, the ex-captain held her blunt sword in a defensive posture towards the goateed captain.  Jack also got to his feet, his almost black eyes full of regret as he drew his own sword.  “Sarah, don’t do this luv,” he pleaded, his voice sounding strained as he got into an offensive stance with his blade.

“The name is Flame, Jack!  You lost any right to call me that years ago!” Flame screamed, betrayal clear in her voice as she rushed forward to meet his blade with hers.

Jones had just cleared the area around himself of enemies when he noticed his cabin door was wide open.  With a furious snarl, the monstrous captain limped toward the open room.  His gait was more unsteady due to him having to discard his cane to fight but Jones was still able to move as fast as any able bodied man, easily making it to his cabin within moments.  As he got closer, the sound of fighting came from within; causing him to tighten his tentacle index finger tighter around his sword hilt as he made his way inside.

The octopus-like pirate was greeted with the sight of Flame engaged in a sword fight with Jack Sparrow, her barely clothed body between the enemy captain and the black urn that contained his heart.  The female’s face was a mask of rage and her turquoise eyes burned with determination as her dull sword clashed against Jack’s quite sharp one, creating loud clanging noises as she merely kept him away from his goal.  Without asking questions, Jones jumped into the fray; his sword joining hers in holding off a particularly vicious blow from the other captain.

Jack immediately went deathly pale, abject fear coming over his face as he began to back away from Jones.  “Ah, I see it’s time fer me ta be goin’,” he gasped out in a weak voice before he simply turned tail and ran.  The rest of his crew, seeing their captain fleeing, dropped their weapons and joined him; fairly flooding back onto their ship and beginning the work of cutting themselves free.  Not about to have any of it, Jones stumped out onto the deck once more; his crab leg thumping loudly on the blackened wood.

“After them!  Leave no survivors,” the monstrous captain barked out, his dead eyes full of rage as he watched his crew swarm over the ‘Pearl’.

The hapless crew of the doomed ship began to lower lifeboats while some of them tried to hold off the horde of abominations.  The ones who didn’t make it onto the boats were captured and brought on board the ‘Dutchman’.  Soon the living and the dead were lined up in front of the pacing Jones, the tentacles on his face slithering restlessly as he glowered down at them.  Flame, who now felt quite woozy and weak now that the adrenaline of earlier had worn off, tottered to stand with the crew to watch their punishment.

Her legs felt like literal jelly and she was having a difficult enough time just staying upright, let alone try to move anymore.  The edges of her vision had even gone a frightening grey which she knew was from a lack of food and blood loss.  It would be a miracle if she could make it back down to the hold without passing out.  Even her breath was coming in ragged pants as she fought with every fiber of her being to stay standing.  Her entire body shaking with effort, Flame watched as her captain sized up the captured for likely crew members.

Davey Jones dealt with the dead bodies first, leaning down over them and opening their mouths.  Then he was reaching into the open mouth with his tentacle finger, slowly going deeper and causing the dead throat to bulge slightly.  Fighting the urge to gag at the sight, Flame watched with fascinated eyes as he began to pull the appendage back; the tip clutching something that looked like a blob of blue fire.

The beast-like captain looked down at the swirling ball, an odd look of anger and envy on his tentacle covered face.  Then he slowly got to his feet, pressing the ball of fire into the mast of the ship; causing a brief blue glow to surround the ship.  Some of the damage caused by the battle was fixed in an instant, drawing a small gasp of wonder from Flame.  She found herself wondering just how many souls were used to just keep the ship afloat and shuddered at the unpleasant idea.

Looking at Jones sadly as he bent by another body to repeat the process, the pirate found herself remembered some of the legend her father had told her about Jones as a child.  Davey Jones was the ferryman of souls, supposed to escort the dead to their final peace in exchange for immortality and one day ashore every ten years.  One day ashore to spend with his beloved who burdened him with this task to begin with.  Just looking at the ship around her told her he hadn’t done his duty in many a year.  He had allowed Calypso’s unreliable nature get the better of him and darken his very soul.

Unable to watch the grim scene anymore, the saddened woman simply turned and began to make her way back to the hold.  As she weakly stumbled down the stairs, she had to support herself on the rotting wall with one hand.  Barely having enough strength to make it to the bottom of the stairs before she collapsed, Flame crumpled into a gasping heap and fought to remain conscious.  The blood loss of last night certainly wasn’t helping her current condition and if she wasn’t able to eat soon she wouldn’t live long enough to fix just what was so wrong here.  So, gritting her teeth with determination, the weakened female dragged herself across the floor until she reached a lone barrel of apples.

Huffing heavily through her nose, the ex-captain reached into the barrel to grab one of the very few apples that were left in the container; allowing herself to slide to the floor after with a sigh.  Nibbling on the apple weakly, Flame turned her head to watch the entrance to the hold.  As she ate the small piece of fruit, her stomach roiled and turned rebelliously; making the weakened pirate release a frustrated sigh.  “Just keep that down okay?  That’s all I ask,” she pleaded softly, stopping a few nibbles into the apple reluctantly.

As she fought to keep the small amount of food down, she heard the dreaded thump of Jones’ approach.  Groaning softly, Flame began to weakly drag herself toward the cell she had come from.  She was just barely halfway on her painful journey before Jones’ harsh voice made her flinch.  “What do ye think ye’re doin’?” he hissed, his accented voice full of anger as she rolled over to look up at him.

“I’m sorry cap’n.  I’ll be back in the cage in a moment.  I couldn’t just let ye fight ‘em by yer onesome,” she gasped out, slipping in and out of pirate lingo as her vision greyed even more and went hazy.  Instead of answering, he was picking her up with a vicious snarl and he was carrying her up the steps.  Despite everything that happened, Flame couldn’t help but nestle into his chest; one of her hand tightening on a barnacle encrusted lapel of his sea-worn coat.  No matter what happened next, she would never regret anything she had gone though.  Still smiling, the small pirate blacked out and knew no more.


	4. A Night for Remembrance

A lot can happen in ten years.  In fact it only took two for Sarah to have another unexpected visitor.  Even though she knew it was nowhere near time for her mysterious captain to appear, she still made a picnic and took it down to the beach every day.  She was just about to begin making a couple sandwiches for her daily trip when she was interrupted by a frantic knocking on her door.  Quirking an eyebrow, the boyishly dressed female moved to the door and opened it to reveal a disheveled looking pirate the same age as her.  “Move, move, move!” he hissed urgently, his thick dreds flying in his face as he ran past her and into the house.

Blinking in confusion, the 36 year old peered out her door to see a veritable army of soldiers heading toward her house.  Gasping in alarm, the young woman slipped her door closed and herded her ‘guest’ into her bedroom.  Motioning for quiet, the pants wearing female moved a section of the carpet aside to reveal a trapdoor.  “Follow me or stay here for them t’find ya,” she hissed, slipping into the small opening.

Her odd companion rushed to join her, pulling the trapdoor shut behind him.  Instead of inky blackness, there was a warm, soft glow filling the surprisingly large room.  The male stared at her with confusion, understanding coming into his dark eyes when he saw a candle in her hands.  “Follow me and I’ll get us outta this mess,” she whispered, barely audible.  Then she turned and began to walk down a long tunnel that seemed to stretch on forever.  Without questioning her, the pirate followed close behind her; staring up at the wooden walls with a mixture of awe and wonder.

“How did ye ever build alla this?” he whispered, straightening his large hat and thick coat.

“My da’ built this himself.  It got passed to me when they passed.  Handy lil escape route isn’t it?” she responded, grinning back at the man behind her; allowing herself to give him the once over.

He was rather tall, the top of her head coming to his shoulder, and dressed in normal pirate garb.  A thick, dark grey coat was draped over his lithe frame and thick belts were across his chest and around his waist.  A white sash was also tied around his waist and under his belt, hanging over his left leg.  A goatee graced his mouth, two braids dangling from his chin.  Something about him made a sense of recognition wash through her.  “I’ve seen posters all over for yer head,” she whispered, continuing to lead him down the tunnel until they reached another huge, open room.

There were three doors in the far wall, no markings or signs to differentiate them from eachother.  Yet the young woman led him down the middle path without hesitation.  “My da’ made a bit of a maze down here.  If you choose the wrong passage you can easily get lost down here forever,” she murmured as she continued, the light of the candle creating odd shadows on her face.

“Fascinatin’ and all but what was that you were saying about wanted posters?” the man asked, sounding a bit nervous as well as suspicious.

“Ye’ve nothin’ ta fear from me Jack Sparrow.  Me own da’ was a pirate and I be followin’ in his footsteps soon enough,” she assured with a chuckle, leading him into another large room.  This time there were six doors, two in the wall in front of them and two more on each wall.  Without pausing for even a second, she led her companion down the hall on the left wall that was closest to the northwestern corner of the room.

They continued this way for what seemed like miles, coming across several rooms with a steadily growing number of doors in the walls.  Yet every time the female led on with no hesitation, even hummed to herself merrily despite the candle growing ever smaller in her hands.  After what seemed an endless time to the man behind her, they finally reached a room with a stairway leading upwards.  “Just go up through there and wait for me Jack.  I’ll lead you to the docks,” she whispered, blowing out the candle and plunging them both into inky blackness.

After a few moments of fumbling noises a crack of light illuminated the underground room as Jack opened the trapdoor and slipped out.  Sarah wasn’t far behind, closing the small opening behind her and successfully preserving her father’s secret tunnels.  “Alright, follow me but stay quiet and stay low.  We have no idea just how many of them bastards there are,” she hissed, going into a crouch and leading the way down a very dark, very narrow alleyway.  After what seemed like an eternity of wandering through the tight, dark passages, the young female led them to an opening that led to the expansive shipyards.

Thankfully there were plenty of other men dressed similarly to Jack and his mostly silent companion, so it wouldn’t be that hard for him to slip into the crowd unnoticed and make his way to his ship.  Turning to the woman who had led him here with a smile on his face, the dreadlocked captain was stunned to see she had already left.  “I’ll have to make a note of where that girl lives.  I have a few things I’m curious about,” he murmured to himself before slipping into the bustling crowd.

Another two years passed in relative peacefulness for Sarah.  She bought herself a ship and had even begun making short voyages on it, always making sure to be back within a few hours to keep her vigil on the beach.  Yet, despite gathering a crew and beginning a career as a pirate, she had yet to pick a name for herself and her crew was beginning to whisper.  Thankfully she had managed to find a loyal crewman who used to ship with the Queen’s Navy named Joe.  Joe had had her back since day one, before she had even hired him.

She had been in a nearby pirate den, searching for men of worth amongst the filth; unknowing of a would be murderer stalking her.  She only became aware of it when she heard a crash behind her.  Whirling around, the new piratess saw a rather tall, burly pirate holding a much scrawnier, dirtier pirate who wore a long, straggly, black goatee on his chin against a wall by his throat.  To her shock, the skinnier pirate held a long, wickedly sharp looking dagger.  “And what were ya thinkin’ of doin’ with that blade matey,” the bigger man snarled, his grip tightening slightly on the other man’s throat.

Choking slightly, the rattier pirate’s eyes filled with fear as he began to shake his head in negation.  “Ya got me wrong! T’was merely trying ta find me seat I was,” the dangling pirate gasped out, the dagger slipping from his grip and clattering to the floor as both his hands came up to scrabble uselessly at the much bigger male’s arm’s.

“If that were the case, then why was yer blade drawn,” the burly man snarled, releasing the man to allow him to flee like the rat he was.  Then her would-be protector turned towards her with a smile.

“How would ya like ta join my crew?  You’ll be the first member,” Sarah offered, smiling back.

Coming out of her reverie, she looked down at the tiny crew that scuttled across the deck of her ship.  It had been a long two years but she had finally managed to gather a crew that she felt she could trust.  “Oi!  Miss pirate person,” called a vaguely familiar voice from the docks her ship was currently tied to.  Whipping her black head around, the young woman looked down to see none other than Jack Sparrow waving up at her.  A slight grin appearing on her pale face, the new captain grabbed a hold of a long rope hanging from one of the masts and swung herself out over the docks; releasing the rope and landing flawlessly on the slotted wood.

“Hey Jack, long time no see!  The heat finally cool off enough for you to come back?” she chirped, honestly happy to see the male before her.  Their first meeting had been brief but something about the other pirate made her feel a kinship with him.

“Indeed!  I see you’ve been busy since I’ve been gone!” he remarked, gesturing to her looming ship and smiling at her.

“Yep, decided I’d take up the family business.  Wanna come back to my place for some lunch to catch up?” she offered, grinning back at him.  The dreadlocked pirate nodded enthusiastically, offering his jacket covered arm to her despite the fact that she would be leading the way.  Giggling slightly, Sarah took his arm and began to walk with him to her house.

An hour and a few sandwiches later, the pirates were busily talking about what had happened to them over the years.  After Jack had finished his story about acquiring a new ship, he blinked and seemed to come to a realization.  “Ya have me at a bit of a disadvantage.  You know my name but I don’t know yours,” he remarked, tilting his head to the side and smiling.

“You’re right, that doesn’t seem fair.  My name is Sarah,” she responded, offering her hand.

“Your real name even,” he murmured in awe, gently clasping her hand briefly.

“A... friend of mine promised to give me a real pirate name when he came back,” she explained, unsure of why she felt the need.  She had only met the man once and she certainly didn’t owe him any explanations.

“Would ya like to see my ship?” the jovial pirate asked, changing the subject; much to her relief.  It must have showed on her face because Jack only had a look of understanding on his face.

“Sure, I’d love to see this ship that’s supposedly from legend,” Sarah chuckled, not believing her companion’s earlier tale about the ship one bit.  There was no way that someone like Jack could have possibly found a way to get his hands on the ‘Black Pearl’.  Her companion only smirked at her disbelief, getting to his feet and once again offering his arm.  Rolling her sea-green eyes, the female took the offered appendage and allowed him to lead her.

As soon as the huge, black ship came into sight, Sarah’s mouth dropped open.  The tattered black sails, the fact the ship itself was also black and the eerie aura that seemed to surround it, there was no other ship it could be than the ‘Pearl’.  Finding herself speechless from seeing the impossibility, the new captain walked toward the infamous ghost ship and put her hand on the side; as if to reassure herself the thing was real.  “How...?” she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder as they roved over the famous, tattered sails.

“I... um... well I had to make a deal for it,” he replied, avoiding her glance as he gestured to one of the crewmen on board to lower a plank for them to board.  Once the long piece of wood had hit the docks, Jack was leading her onto the ship, a proud smile on his tanned face.

Instead of pressing him for more information like she wanted to, Sarah decided to extend him the same courtesy he had offered her earlier and allow him to keep his secret.  Smiling back at the captain who was currently showing her around the legendary ship, the young woman couldn’t help the feeling of awe just being on the deck instilled in her.  It was like being on a living ghost, something that was only whispered about in stories and could never be real.

All of a sudden, a grizzled old man that was dressed more like a gentleman than a pirate, came rushing toward them; a worried look on his face.  He had short, black hair that was combed back and a gray beard on his face that stopped at his chin.  He wore a black suit coat that was suited to being in the rain and a black vest under it.  A gray bowler hat was perched on his head, giving him a rather out of place look amongst the rest of the scoundrels.  “Jack!  You know bringin’ a woman on board be powerful bad luck!” the older man admonished, the reek of rum rolling off him in thick waves.  Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Sarah took a few steps back from the pirate in front of them.

“But can’t one counteract that bad luck with fact that the woman is also a pirate captain?” Jack quipped, unfazed by the man’s frantic gaze.  His words seemed to give the crewman pause, as he went silent and got a thoughtful look on his face.

“Aye, that would about do it!” the man agreed after a few moments, all the fear from earlier replaced with joy and relief.  Then the unusually dressed male bowed to her and offered his hand.

“Forgive me rude behavior Cap’n.  Mr. Gibbs at yer service,” he said with a smile.  Blinking a bit, Sarah gave the pirate her hand and nearly jumped out of her skin when he kissed the top.  Then, as suddenly as he was there, he was gone.  Still a bit confused, the young woman turned to Jack with a highly confused look.

“Mr. Gibbs is a bit superstitious but he’s one of the most loyal men I’ve ever shipped with.  Come on, I wanna show ya the rest of my ship,” he answered, an amused look on his goateed lips as he continued to show her around.

After that, Sarah and Jack were almost always working together on some heist or adventure.  The only rule the female insisted on was that whatever they were doing wouldn’t take more than a couple days at the most.  Even though the already fierce captain obviously preferred the open ocean to the land, she always seemed anxious about returning to the shore once they had left.  Still, over four years of close partnership, Jack and Sarah became nearly inseparable; earning quite a reputation among traders and other pirates.

As the end of their fourth year of pirating began to come to a close, the young pirate captain seemed less and less inclined to go out on the ocean.  In fact it became rare for Jack to even see her anywhere near the docks anymore.  He almost always had to go to her house and she often wasn’t there, instead sitting on a nearby beach and staring out into the ocean.  He had tried to ask just what she was waiting for but she would never answer, merely offer him a sandwich from a meal obviously packed for two.  It was only on the last day of the year that he found out just who she had been waiting for.

After ten years of waiting, Sarah had never felt more excited or antsy in her life.  A faint twinge of guilt lingered in the back of her mind about how she was beginning to fall in love with a claimed man but she simply couldn’t find it within herself to care.  She had already treated him with more loyalty and love than this woman who had never shown up once during the years she had been meeting with him.  Also there was something about the noble looking captain that made her want to be near him.

Humming a merry tune to herself, the young captain busied herself with packing a large lunch as well as dinner in a large sack.  She also shoved a blanket in there to help keep the sand off the food as well as herself.  Once she had packed to her satisfaction, she was running down to the beach in the early morning gloom; the sun just beginning to peek over the ocean.  As she approached the familiar stretch of sand, she could see a long boat approaching slowly.

At the sight of the small, dark blob in the distance her heart leapt into her throat and began to beat wildly as excitement and anticipation began to fill her.  Dropping her burden on the beach, she ran towards where the waves gently lapped the sugar white sand and tried to make out if it was indeed Davy and his crew heading in.  Unfortunately they were still too far to make out, much to her disappointment and frustration.  To tell the truth, she was always afraid that one day Jones just wouldn’t show up; having given up on his wayward love.  For some reason that thought made her feel a deep, irrational fear.

After a few moments of breathless anxiety, Sarah was finally able to make out the captain’s familiar face in the light of the rising sun.  With a cry of pure joy, the young pirate starting wading into the ocean to meet the slowly moving long boat.  Once Davy saw her moving through the very likely cold ocean, he leapt off the boat and began to head towards her with concern all over his gaunt face.  “Sarah!  Go back to shore before you catch your death,” he admonished, as he waded through the frigid saltwater as fast as he could.

Undeterred by the iciness of the early morning ocean or his scolding, the female ran through the water and practically threw herself on top of him; almost knocking them both back into the water.  Making a surprised noise, the older male barely managed to brace himself in time to stop them from going over.  Then, ignoring the no doubt incredulous gazes of his crew who was currently rowing the long boat back to his hidden ship, he picked her up easily in his arms and carried her to the shore.  “We’ll have to get you home and warmed up before you get sick,” he hissed, his smooth voice full of concern and a touch of irritation.

Sarah only chuckled, looking down at the pirate’s clothes with a bit of wonder.  Despite the fact the legendary male was wading through the water, his clothes seemed to be completely dry.  “You know, that’s not entirely fair,” she sighed, gesturing to his dry clothing as he stepped onto the beach.  He only smiled down at her slightly, worry still clear in his stormy eyes.

“It is no fault of mine that you charged into the ocean with no thought to the cold,” he sighed, his gray-blue eyes going to the large bundle that had been dropped haphazardly on the sand.  Following his gaze, the young woman tried to squirm out of his grasp to retrieve her discarded sack.  If the captain of the dead was going to take to her house to dry off, she certainly didn’t want to leave her hard work on the beach to be washed away by the tide.  Yet the older man kept his grip tight, seemingly unwilling to release her.

“I will get that for you,” he murmured softly, able to suss out that she had wanted to retrieve the large bag.  Then he was bending to gather it, still holding her tight against his broad chest with one arm.  Once he had picked up the surprisingly heavy sack, Jones looked down at the woman he held; a silent demand swirling in his stormy eyes.

“My house is just that way,” she sighed, barely suppressing a shudder from the look he was giving her and gesturing off to the right edge of the beach.  There, a rather humble house stood; looking rather homey despite the small size.  Without another word, the surprisingly strong male began to stride towards the house quickly.  It was at this point that the young female’s excitement had begun to wear off and the cold began to set in, causing the pirate to begin to shiver uncontrollably.

His mouth going into a grimace of displeasure and worry, Jones began to move even faster; fairly throwing the door open when he reached the house.  His gray-blue eyes looked around the small room until they landed on a fireplace.  Moving toward it swiftly, the captain set her on a chair near the hearth and began to fiddle with the logs.  After a few moments of trying and failing to get a fire going, the stubborn kindling finally caught.  As the newborn flames began to rise, his stormy eyes shot to her still open door.  “Try to get warm,” he murmured getting to his feet, striding to the door and shutting it gently.

Once it was securely shut, the worried pirate turned to the now shaking female who was as close to the fire as she could get.  Her slightly shuddering hands were held close to the growing fire as water dripped from her soaked clothing.  “Get those clothes off,” he hissed, concern thick in his voice as he strode back towards her to help.  His words caused an odd jolt to go through the woman but she nodded and began to peel the soaked, cold clothing off herself.  Even if being naked around the male was highly embarrassing, the piratess would rather not catch pneumonia.

Thankfully Jones was a perfect gentleman, merely taking her clothing and draping it over the grate that stood before the fireplace.  “Stay near th’fire, I’ll go to yer room if you point th’way,” he rumbled, not looking at her but looking around the small but comfortable room.

“The door on the right wall,” Sarah answered, her teeth chattering as she shook in place.  Instead of heading to the door like she thought, she heard faint footsteps as the room suddenly got a bit more dim.  Before she could turn to see what was going on, something heavy and warm was carefully draped over her shoulders.

“Try t’keep warm,” urged a male voice by her ear, a hand briefly clamping on her shoulder before the presence behind her moved away.

Blinking, Sarah looked down to see Davy’s coat hanging around her.  Smiling slightly, the pale, shuddering, rather naked woman gathered the heavy, black material around herself and inhaled deeply.  It smelled of the ocean, musk, brine, and something uniquely deep and earthy.  It almost felt as if she had been wrapped in his very scent itself, making a content sigh slip past her slightly blue, shuddering lips.  Then, all of a sudden, the quiet spell was broken by a flurry of harried activity.

First, a bundle of fresh, dry clothes was deposited on the chair next to her.  Next there were several metallic clangs, drawing the female’s attention as she began to pull on some underwear and a pair of black pants.  Her turquoise gaze was instantly drawn to Jones, who was fiddling with something in a cupboard just above the table.  His gaunt, noble looking face was a mask of deep worry as he searched through the various cups and plates for something.  After a few moments of this, the pirate pulled free a small tea kettle.

Pulling her red shirt over her head, Sarah gathered her chair, grabbed Davy’s coat and sat as close to the fire as she could get without moving the grating.  Still a bit cold despite the warm, dry clothes, the young captain chattered her teeth helplessly as she tried to rub some warmth back into her clammy arms.  “Put the coat back on,” came a gruff, not quite order from her right as the sound of her water pump being primed came from the same direction.

Looking over in that direction, Sarah put Jones’ coat back on with a relieved sigh; the rough material helping her feel much warmer.  As she watched, the feared captain filled the tiny kettle with water and strode rapidly back to the fire.  Once there, he placed the kettle on a metal arm and swung it over the now roaring flames.  Then his stormcloud gaze was back on her, moving over her huddled form with concern.  “Are you startin’ t’warm up?” he husked out as he moved to her in two large steps, stopping mere inches from her.  His blue-gray gaze almost seemed to lock her in place as he seemed to be assuring himself of something.

“A bit,” she replied, smiling slightly as she pulled the edges of the coat closed around her.  Already her lips were beginning to look more pink and her pale skin was starting to regain some color.  Now that he was in her house and taking care of her, the female began to feel a bit silly for her earlier behavior.  To tell the truth, she had been so happy to see him she had simply been unable to help herself.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” she sighed shamefully, looking up at him with an abashed expression.  Instead of whatever she had been expecting, she suddenly found herself on the receiving end of a rather fierce kiss.  His lips crashed down on her with a hunger that took her breath away, his hands pulling her to her feet and gathering her in an almost crushing embrace.  Before she could even respond, he broke the kiss; entwining a hand in her ebony hair as he held her as close to his lithe body as he could.

“I missed you too,” he sighed in a tortured, gruff voice, his nimble fingers moving in gentle circles on the back of her head.  His words caused her heart to leap in her throat, a small gasp leaving her lips as happy tears began to roll down her milky cheeks.

He had missed her!  She hadn’t been the only one excited!  Just knowing that made Sarah feel as if she was walking on air.  Sighing softly and smiling as wide as she could, the young pirate allowed her arms to wrap around Jones’ waist and rubbed her cheek along the tan shirt he wore.  Unfortunately the tea kettle chose that time to release a rather loud squeal, breaking the moment like a delicate thread.  With a gruff sigh, the captain released her and moved to remove the kettle from the flames.

Her knees shaking, the young captain sat back in her seat before her legs could give out from under her.  Happiness still sang in her veins as she watched the pirate before her grab a thick pad and pull the kettle off the metal arm.  Then he was pouring the steaming water into two large cups and moving back toward the cupboard above the table.  After some rummaging, he pulled out a metal tin and opened it.  Once satisfied it was indeed tea, the graceful male put a few spoonfuls into each cup and stirred vigorously.

Sarah watched this all in relative silence, desperately trying to get her racing heart to slow down.  Even if they were happy to see each other, the man was still attached to his mysterious female.  Her happiness turning into a slight sorrow, the woman took a deep breath before shoving the feeling aside.  She was his friend, his only company after travelling the unforgiving ocean for ten years.  Ten long years, longing to see one woman for the one day he was allowed on shore.  A woman who had never once shown up.  All of a sudden, she found herself wondering just how long this had been going on before she had met him on the beach.  How long had he been waiting alone, no one to distract him from the deep heartache he no doubt felt whenever the woman wouldn’t show up.

A steaming cup held in front of her broke her out of her dark thoughts and the young captain looked up to see Jones looking down at her with relief and a bit of embarrassment.  Taking the cup with a thank you, Sarah blew on the hot liquid before taking a cautious sip.  “Some way to start out your one day ashore,” she joked, allowing the warm fluid to fill her still cold body with a pleasant warmth.

“Try not t’make a habit of it,” Jones requested solemnly, removing his hat to reveal his now graying hair.  In fact the captain himself looked much older, more worn out and defeated in a way.  Faint wrinkles graced the corners of his eyes and mouth, only helping with the illusion of sadness.  His skin was even more pale than last time, even having a bit of a gray tinge; as if he hadn’t seen the sun in a very long time.

Worry filling her, Sarah was on her feet and in front of him; her hands going to his drawn face and resting on his prominent cheekbones.  “She’s puttin’ ya through hell,” she hissed out, unexpected venom in her voice as worry tinged her sea-green eyes.  Then her lips were meeting his as her hands wrapped around the back of his neck.  At first the kiss stayed chaste, the female merely wanting to offer comfort but then Jones wrapped his own arms around her and began to deepen it.

His surprisingly soft lips angled over hers slightly as his tongue gently licked hesitatingly over her closed lips.  A gasp left her as she opened to him and his tongue didn’t waste time entering her mouth and tangling with hers.  Sighing softly, the young pirate melted into the heated embrace, her heart racing in her throat and a tight coil of pressure beginning to coil in her stomach.  Then, as suddenly as it started, Jones ended it; resting his forehead against hers.  His powerful body shuddered slightly as his hands spasmed on her back.  His eyes were tightly shut as he breathed heavily through his nose, as if it was taking everything within him to maintain control.  “Do you want to go back to the beach?” Sarah asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Opening his eyes, Jones looked down at her with surprise before smiling.  “No, I’d rather see yer ship and crew.  I’ve heard a lot about you in all these years,” he rumbled softly, pulling away from her to sip his tea.  Smiling in embarrassed pride, the young captain took another sip of her own tea.

“I’ve always loved the ocean.  My dad and my mom were both pirates.  So of course I took up the family business once I got a ship and crew,” she replied softly, finishing off her tea with a gulp.

“I remember you tellin’ me about your love o’ th’ocean when you were a girl of sixteen.  Hard to believe tha’ mere slip of a thing has grown into a pirate captain,” he sighed, his eyes roving over her body in a way that made her toes tingle.

Blushing happily at the fact that he remembered their first meeting as clearly as she did, the young captain could only chuckle nervously.  “It ain’t been easy.  If it weren’t fer Joe and Jack, I wouldn’t be where I am right now,” she replied moving to her door and glancing back at Jones.  The older male only looked at her neutrally, a slight heat to his stormy eyes as he finished his tea slowly.

“Would this be Jack Sparrow?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before as he set his cup down.

“Yes!  He’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had!  He’s helped me out of so many scrapes that I’m sure I’d have found a hangman’s noose before now.  That ship of his is also a huge help,” she answered enthusiastically, a light coming into her eyes as she remembered their many adventures.  One that stood out in her mind right now was an incident with a rather large squid and Jack trying to find a way to save her hide.

“Really now?  He’s been keepin’ ya safe has he?” the pirate before her murmured in an incredulous tone, suddenly much closer than he had been moments before.  Looking up at him in confusion, the young woman tilted her head to one side and met his steely gaze.  There was a hard, angry look to his eyes, as if Jack had done something to wrong him.

“Yes, of course!  We’ve been partners for four years now,” she replied, her voice gaining a cautious edge as she took in Jones’ expression.  For a few heartbeats, the mighty captain merely stared at her searchingly before giving a slight nod.

“Show me this ship of yours,” he requested, stepping back slightly and relaxing just a bit.  There was still a hard edge to his eyes but a slight smile was on his pale face, relieving some of the tension in the air.

“Sure!  I have a favor t’ask o’ ya when we get there!” she chirped, grasping his hand in hers, entwining their fingers and dragging him out into the the sunlight.

A sudden jolt brought Flame back into reality and she groaned as she opened her far too heavy eyes.  She vaguely felt something pressing her wrists down on a mattress below her and a weight above her pressing down.  Desperately trying to focus her blurred vision, the once captain opted to stay still until she could see what was going on.  “You...  Why did ya have t’find my heart?  Why did ya have t’come onto my ship?  Why did ya have t’keep the blasted sash!  Why t’hell did ya have t’save me fuckin’ life!” snarled a seething, male voice from above her.

Blinking in confusion, Flame managed to clear her vision enough to make out the lovecraftian monster looming above her in the darkness.  Then the memory of yesterday came into her mind as well as the realization of just where she was.  “Yer makin’ me remember you!  Makin’ me....,” he snarled, wrapping his mostly human right hand in her dark hair and pulling  hard .  His tentacle index finger moved across her scalp, wrapping in a large clump of hair and tugging hard as well.  Then, all of a sudden, the ship jolted beneath them.

“Cap’n!  Cap’n we’ve been rammed,” came a desperate scream of a crewman followed by the sounds of grappling hooks embedding in wood.  Swearing heavily, the beastly captain got to his mismatched feet and fixed his hat on his slimy head.

Within seconds, Flame was on her feet as well; her turquoise eyes searching for any weapon to help in the coming battle.  “Here,” Jones snarled, tossing her a sheathed sword before opening his cabin door and charging out.  Fixing the sword to her waist, the pirate drew the blade and charged out right behind him; ready to protect him til her last breath.  The sight that greeted them nearly made them stop in their tracks from astonishment.  There, leading the charge was Jack Sparrow.  A snarl fixing itself to her face, the ex-captain charged toward the dreadlocked pirate with her sword raised; only to be stopped by another blade swinging down.

Turning toward the intruder with a growl, she saw a stunningly handsome looking man that had long, blonde hair and a light goatee and mustache.  He had the bearing and dress of someone who came from civilization but handled a sword like a true fighter.  “Wil, I got this one mate; just try t’get ‘round Jones,” Jack rasped, shoving the stranger out of the way to meet her blade with his.  Then the two ex-friends began a deadly dance as a swarm of pirates flooded the ship.


	5. Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!: Extreme beating. Rape. Will be marked with this **

    “Oh no you fuckin’ don’t!” Flame screamed, launching herself at ‘Wil’ as he tried to dodge around the dueling pair.  With a low growl, Jack shouldered the rather green looking male out of the way; once again meeting her blade with his; gritting his yellowed teeth as he tried to shove the seething female back.  Despite how thin she seemed, the once captain had a surprising amount of power in her wiry body; giving the dreadlocked male under her assault a run for his money.  Trying to take advantage of the fierce female being distracted with Jack, the blonde made a dash for the cabin behind Jones.

    Seeing the blur of movement, the snarling female threw herself at the boy; tackling him onto the deck and forcing them both into a roll.  Jones, who had been fighting a large group of Jack’s crew, noticed the scuffle and whirled to see Flame laying on her back and using her powerful legs to launch the young, mustached male into the crowd he had been fighting.  This caused the large group to collapse in a tangle, giving the panting pirate a chance to get to her feet and charge at Jack.  The sneaky male had been sneaking toward the cabin in the commotion, looking up just in time to get tackled through the rotted, barnacle encrusted wood.

    Instead of moving to help the female, the monstrous captain turned to face the blonde male that Flame had tossed into the crowd.  Sneering at the rather young male as the tentacles on his upper lip twitched, Jones pulled himself to his full height as he held his saber like sword out to his right.  “Do you fear death boy?” he hissed, before he charged at the boy that struggled to get to his feet.  To his shock, his attack was staved off by another sword, this one held by a blonde slip of a female that was dressed in rather form fitting pirate’s clothes.

    “Elizabeth!” the blonde male hissed, getting to his feet and trying to shove her out of the way to take her place.  Taking advantage of the pair distracting eachother, Jones shoved them backwards and off balance; causing them to fall into the mixed crew behind them.  Gripping his index tentacle around the hilt of his sword, the cthulu-esque captain stumped toward them with a heavy glare on his slimy brow.

    While Jones had been doing that, Flame had launched herself off Jack’s prone body by her hands; doing a flip in the air and slightly surprised when she managed to land on her feet.  The male also leapt to his feet, whirling to face her with a mixture of desperation and deep sorrow.  “Luv, just give me th’damn thing!  Look what he’s done ta ya!” he hissed, gesturing to her rail thin, barely clothed body with a half gloved hand.

    “This wasn’t _his_ doing, not that it’s any o’ yer business you fuckin’ traitor,” she hissed out venomously, placing her thin, weakened body between her once partner and the black urn.

    “Wh-what?  What do ya mean?!  If he ain’t starvin’ ya then...,” the male across from her hissed out, concern thick in his baritone voice as his posture began to relax.

    “It ain’t yer fuckin’ business Sparrow!” screamed the former captain as she flung herself at him and tackling him into a roll.  For a few moments, the pair scuffled; one earnestly trying to kill the other while the other merely tried to hold her off.  Then she found herself pinned to the blackened, rotted smelling wood of the deck, her thin wrists pinned in a painfully harsh grasp.

    Jack panted as he stared down at the female below him, his thick dreds hanging in their faces as he tried to catch his breath.  “Fer lookin’ like yer on death’s door, ye sure do put up a fight,” he gasped out, outright worry swirling in his black eyes as he stared down at his once companion.  She only hissed in response, struggling against his tight hold with all the strength she had in her failing body.

    “What’s wrong wi’ya?  Now that I think about it, ye haven’t been with him near long enough to be this thin.  That means ye’ve been losin’ weight long before ye found the blasted black thing on the self behind me,” he continued, his tan brow crinkled as he tried to make sense of her poor condition.

    “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything!  Not after what you did!” Flame hissed, her turquoise eyes sparking with vicious anger and betrayal as she continued to twist and writhe within Jack’s iron grip.

    “Sarah, surely you can see why I...,” he began in a soft, guilt ridden voice that was thick with worry.

    “No!  No!  No matter what you say, a man’s freedom, his very life, should not belong to anyone but himself!  It doesn’t matter what he did or may do with the freedom, no one has the right to use anyone like a puppet!” the ex-captain bit out, her voice shaking with emotion as tears began to slip down her slightly gray cheeks.

    Jolting in place, the male pinning her down took a shuddering breath before he closed his almost bruised looking eyes.  “Jack, his heart is changing him already.  He’s remembering, feeling,” Flame reasoned, some of her fury changing to slight pleading as she stilled beneath him.  The black haired femme could feel her adrenaline ebbing, leaving behind sheer exhaustion from lack of food and the blood loss she suffered two days ago.  Only her will to protect Jones’ heart kept her conscious as she gazed up at the captain above her.

    “Sarah...,” he sighed out, looking reluctant as well as torn.  His dark gaze kept flicking to the urn that rested on a shelf just above a bed.

    “I just need a bit more time,” came a soft plea, drawing his gaze to the pirate who had once been one of his best friends.  A woman who had impressed him with how quick she learned and had earned his eternal loyalty.  A woman who it tore him apart to be locked in battle with.  Swallowing thickly, the dreadlocked captains slowly got to his feet and sheathed his long sword.  Then he was offering a fingerless gloved hand to the woman on the floor.

    “A week Sarah, that’s all I c’n afford t’give.  Th’world is all outta balance, it isn’t just ‘bout me ship anymore,” Jack sighed, smirking slightly when she refused his hand and shoved herself to her feet.  The suspicious female slowly moved to once again place her shaking, barely standing body between the captain and the coral-like object, a frown on her pale, strained face as she raised her borrowed sword.

    “What’s been happenin’?” the pirate female hissed, narrowing her sea-green eyes.

    Despite a hard fight from Sparrow’s crew, the crew of the ‘Dutchman’ were slowly beginning to push them back.  “Where the hell is Jack with that heart?” Will hissed, staving off one of Jones’ sword swings while Elizabeth protected his back.

    “I don’t know!  From what I saw of the woman that took him on, he should have just gotten her out of the way and been out by now,” the boyishly dressed girl hissed, shifting her blue gaze to the Captain’s Quarters nervously.  Unknown to both, their whispered conversation had an interesting effect on the beast-like captain.

    His corpse-like eyes flashed with a sudden anger as he suddenly charged the pair.  Just as his sword was about to clash with Wil’s, Jack’s voice called from behind.  “Retreat!  Retreat!” came his deep, semi-strained voice, causing the trio to freeze and turn to face the bearded pirate.  The lean captain leaned heavily on the rotted doorway as he clutched a bleeding wound in his side.  At the sight of his blood, the pair Jones was fighting backed off immediately; running back to the stolen Navy ship like a monster was on their heels.

    The rest of the crew and Jack followed close behind, the stragglers getting caught easily by Jones’ crew.  “Where d’ya want me cap’n,” came a tired voice masked with a thin veil of energy.  Turning towards the speaker, the lovecraftian captain found himself looking at the female that had caused all this trouble.  Yet, without her his heart would be in the hands of the Navy by now.  Allowing his cloudy gaze to rove over her shockingly thin body, Jones saw she now wore actual clothing instead of the rags from earlier and the clothing was rather mismatched.

    “I want ye t’wait in me cabin,” he snarled out in a deadly voice, the valve in his left cheek popping from his irritation.

    “I’m not injured!  I can help the crew tie up the prisoners, tend to our wounded, gather the dead!  Haven’t I proven my loyalty?” she protested, despite how bone weary and exhausted she actually looked.  Now that he was actually looking at her, there was something desperately wrong with the woman.

    The female was almost thin enough to see the skeleton underneath her skin and there were purple-black circles under her expressive eyes.  Instead of healthy and pink, her skin looked colorless and held a gray tinge.  Even her posture spoke of illness, a bit slumped and very slightly swaying.  It almost looked like her strength of will and sheer stubbornness was the only thing keeping the pirate on her feet.  “Get in th’blasted cabin and shut the door!  Or would you like another taste o’me whip?” he hissed in his accented voice, glowering down at the defiant woman.

    Heaving a sigh, Flame only rolled her turquoise eyes before stumbling back to the small room and shutting what was left of the shattered door behind her.  Despite how irritated she acted, with all her adrenaline gone; the sick woman found herself thankful to be sent back in here.  Looking up at the twisted, black, almost alive object that held a precious treasure, she smiled and allowed herself to fall on Jones’ sunken and dusty mattress.  The urn above her let out a low bass-pulse that was more felt that it was audible, filling the dark room with a warm feeling of comfort, love and a touch of worry.  “A week, a week to save the world.  Seven days to make him ferry the dead once more.  May as well have just asked me to make an entire universe,” she sighed to herself, smiling at the feelings the heart emanated despite her anxiety.

    Jones strode down the line of bodies, collecting souls and walking past as his crew shoved the piles of rotting flesh into the ocean.  Yet, even as he repaired the damage to the ship with the glowing left-overs of life, he found himself thinking about the pirate in his cabin.  To his extreme rage, the beastly captain found himself actually feeling worry for the woman.  His unwanted memories were of a healthy woman, full of life, love and plenty of attitude.  She still had a lot of those qualities but now only seemed to be a mere shadow of herself.  Snarling his upper lip at the unwanted concern, Jones deftly beheaded one of the prisoners without so much as asking if he wanted to join the crew.  He couldn’t allow this female to get him to feel, he had to destroy these unwanted tender emotions before they could truly take root.

    Without hesitating, the lovecraftian commander simply dispatched of the crew.  Now was not the time to add to his numbers.  Now he simply had no patience to ask questions.  Now, all he wanted was to drive this treacherous woman from his head and his detached heart.  Now he had to prove to himself and her that having his heart changed nothing.  Slinging the blood off his blade as he beheaded the final captive, the tentacled pirated whirled and stormed back towards his cabin.  The woman within would regret the day she had ever met Davy Jones.

    Jack rushed to his cabin, locking the heavy door against the pair he knew was right on his heels.  With the wooden barrier between himself and the teens, the captain lifted his hand to look at his self administered wound.  After he had told Sarah about the wild state of the oceans, she had finally agreed to the necessity of either forcing Jones to change or killing him.  Then there had been the problem of how they make it look good for the people he had drug into an ultimately pointless battle.  “Shit,” he hissed, pulling off his white, billowy shirt to better examine the wound.

    It was long and rather deep, blood oozing out of the wound lazily.  He had taken his dagger and slashed his own side haphazardly, he was grateful he wasn’t bleeding any worse.  Hissing through clenched teeth, the pirate flung himself onto the bed and pulled out a needle and thread.  As much as he hated doing this, the wound need stitching and a douse of rum over it to prevent infection.  Taking a drag of said alcohol to brace himself against the pain, Jack tied a knot in the end of the string with surprisingly dextrous fingers and got to work.

    As he pulled the ends of his torn flesh together, while swearing colorfully, he found himself lingering on the image of how she had looked.  She looked like she hadn’t eaten in quite a while and seemed barely strong enough to hold herself up.  What had happened to the woman to cause her to look like that?  The thought that there could be something seriously wrong with his once partner made his heart lurch sickly in his chest.  All the years of not seeing her, just knowing she was alive had been enough for him.  If Sarah were to die... he couldn’t even entertain the thought without feeling like he was dying himself.  Shaking himself, he finished his work and shoved his worries about the pirate to the back of his mind.  For now, he had to hope she knew what she was doing and that she would be alright.

    **Flame was on her knees, her skin bared to the cold, salty air and her arms stretched out and bound by ropes to the headboard of the bed.  Her mid-back length, ebony hair curtained her face and hid her pained expression.  The whip came sailing down through the air, landing on her back with an explosion of pain and causing her body to involuntarily twist away.  Yet only a small grunt left her lips, despite the roaring pain generating on her back.  She could feel her blood flowing down her skin in warm streams and the tips of her fingers tingled as the ropes binding her hands began to cut off circulation.

    Her back felt like a canvas of pain but not so much as a whimper left the former captain.  Tears flowed freely down her too pale cheeks but no cries of pain or begs for mercy left her lips.  She wasn’t even all that surprised or hurt by what was happening.  Jones had to be terrified.  After all the years of not feeling, not remembering; only to have it ripped away by a female he only half remembered.  Closing her dull eyes tightly, she merely grit her teeth until the captain behind her allowed the whip to drop to the floor with a loud clunk.

    Each bleeding wound slashed across her milky back had caused his heart to lurch in the urn above them, only furthering his ire and roughening his hand.  Soon he was grunting from the effort he was putting into the swings yet the guilt and self hatred only grew.  Still, throughout the entire time, the female below him had only grunted or gasped; making him feel even more angry but also a sort of grudging respect for the woman.  Allowing the whip to drop from his half tentacle hand, Jones sat back to examine the wounded skin of her back.

    Several long, deep, bleeding gashes marred her milky skin, making the knife of guilt twist tighter in the heart above them.  Snarling in outright fury, the beastly captain began to fumble with his belt until his dark, sea-worn pants slipped down his lithe waist.  Glaring down at the infuriatingly silent wench, he positioned the tip of his rather sizeable manhood at her dry entrance and placed his free hand on the small of her back.  Then he was hilting himself, his dead eyes going wide as he felt himself steal her virginity.

    Pain!  So much pain!  All of it generating from where Jones had impaled her with his erection.  She had been unable to stop her scream as he had taken her and let out low, shuddery sighs as she tried to relax around the intrusion inside of her.  Then, to her sincere shock, he was gone; leaving her empty.  Unable to stop a pained whimper, Flame sagged in her bonds as she fought against the outright sobs rising in her chest.  The inside of her burned and throbbed like fire and she could feel hot blood pouring out of her recently abused womanhood.**

    Next thing she knew, the ropes around her wrists were cut and she collapsed on the dilapidated bed.  The sudden movement caused a jolt of sheer agony to shoot through her back as well as her violated core, drawing a small scream from her against her will.  Then Jones was rolling her roughly to lay on her back, the tentacles that comprised his beard moving soothingly over the wounds on her back.  “Ye were a virgin...,” he husked out in an angry voice tinged with wonder and just a touch of guilt.

    Pained laughter burbled out of her to both of their surprises.  “Ye weren’ t’only one to wait around fer someone to come when you knew very well they wouldn’t show up,” Flame replied, lifting her head painfully to look at the captain as he healed her wounds.  Her response caused him to jolt ever so slightly as his gaze moved to her.

    “Ye waited?  Even after...,” he whispered in a barely audible voice, making the weakened pirate strain to hear his words.

    “Of course I waited.  I kept hopin’, prayin’...,” she replied, wincing as a pulse of thick pain rippled from her womanhood.

    All of a sudden the urn on the shelf released a bass-pulse, filling Flame with a feeling of comfort and soothing while Jones was filled with bitter guilt and regret.  Then he was on his feet and moving to his newly repaired door.  Before he had come in, the former Guardian of the Dead had pressed a soul to the entry and repaired it.  Flinging it open, he stuck his tentacle covered head outside and hollered for someone named ‘Bootstrap’.  After a few whispered words, Jones turned and came back after shutting the door.  “How long did ye wait...,” he hissed out, his voice furious but holding a slightly urgent tone.

    “Four years.  Been searchin’ fer two,” she replied quietly, no fear in her voice despite what had just happened to her.

    “Six years, has it been that long,” he breathed, his mask of rage slipping for downright wonder and disbelief.

    “Aye, six long years knowin’ ya wouldn’t be comin’ back,” Flame replied, jolting slightly when a light knock came from the door.  The small movement caused another jolt of pain and drew a hiss from her.

    His glare slamming back into place, the cthulu-like male limped toward the door and flung it open.  After a few whispered words, Jone was shutting the door again and coming toward her with a plate of cooked seafood.  Smelling the delicious food, Flame lifted her head to look at the captain.  Although the smell of crab made her mouth water, her stomach lurched unsurely.  Barely fighting her nausea, the weak female sat up painfully with several winces.  “Stay down,” Jones growled, setting the plate down on the grungy sheet to push her back down.

    Conceding with his wishes, Flame laid back and picked up a large piece of crab meat.  Just the smell of the buttery flesh made her mouth flood with saliva but her stomach clenched sickly.  Fighting against the unease in her belly, the pirate took brought the delicate meat to her lips and opened her mouth.  Just as she was about to take a bite, another, much louder knock came on the door.  Growling low in his chest, the mighty creature got to his feet and limped to the door.  Sticking his head out, there was a harsh conversation before Jones simply left and closed the door behind himself.

    Relieved to be alone, the female managed a nibble or two of some of the less rich food before her stomach warned her it was going to rebel.  Then she had simply tossed the rest out of the port hole over the bed so the smell wouldn’t make it worse.  Now she was simply laying on her side as the pain inside her slowly ebbed.  As she lay there, her stomach churned irritably and she took deep, slow breaths in a futile effort to calm it.

As the former captain lay there in the quiet, dim cabin, she found herself reflecting on the past, on who Jones was before.  Smiling to herself, the exhausted female allowed her sea-green eyes to close as she began to slowly relax.  As her memories unraveled before her, Flame soon dozed off and they became dreams.  She never saw Jones come back in and stand by her bed.  She never saw him looking down at her with a mixture of hate and deep love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: And here we have Wil and Elizabeth’s entry. One has to wonder how this will go.


	6. Kneel and Obey!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!: ‘Public’ Humiliation, Pet/Master Dynamics (Sorta), ‘Public’ Punishment, Tentacle Rape (Sorta)

Looking up at the legendary pirate beside her, Sarah could scarcely believe he was really there.  Tightening the grip she had on his jacketed arm, the dark haired female lead him to the docks and right up to her ship.  Despite the praise Jones had given her earlier, the young woman found herself nervous.  She was a greenhorn compared to the supposedly immortal being beside her, who was she to think she could come close to winning his admiration.  As the noble male beside her looked over her ship with critical eyes, she couldn’t help but fidget.  After what seemed like an eternity, Jones pulled back to give her an approving smile; nearly making her collapse in relief.  “Tis a fine ship,” he announced, slight amusement in his stormy eyes.

“Aye, she’s weathered many a storm with nary a complaint,” Sarah replied, patting the wooden hull affectionately.

“Yet I noticed somethin’s missin’,” replied a voice right by her ear, making pleasant shivers run up her spine.

“Aye, a name.  Just like meself.  I was hopin’ t’ask,” she began, tapering off when her nervousness made it impossible for her to speak.  Her small hands played nervously with the hem of her red shirt as she avoided looking at him.

“I would be honored,” came a delighted purr by her ear as a hand tightened on her shoulder and spun her to face her companion.  The tall, noble looking male only smiled down at her, affection clear in his gray eyes.

Relief and happiness flooded the thirty-six year old as a glowing grin slowly appeared on her pale face.  The much taller male beside her only ruffled her hair affectionately before returning his gaze back to the huge ship.  “But first, we must give ye a proper pirate name.  I hear ye still haven’t chosen one,” Jones stated from beside her, light irritation and worry tinging his accented voice.  The disapproval in his voice made her feel like an errant child and she had trouble meeting his stormy gaze.

“You said you were going to give me one when you came back,” Sarah replied quietly, staring down at the wood of the dock while her heart thudded in her ears.  Despite the dangers of sailing the seas under her given name, the piratess had simply been unwilling to take a name.  She knew it was childish, but she had wanted to give Jones the opportunity to christen her and her ship.  With her gaze fixed firmly on the dock, she missed the exasperation leave her companion’s face to be replaced with surprise and a touch of something tender.

“Aye, that I did.  Tis high time I kept tha’ promise,” the captain announced, turning her to face him.  A gentle smile graced his lips and it even seemed like some of the gray had receded from his hair.  Even his face had more color to it and was looking less gaunt, as if just being around her was restoring some of his life.  A fact that made her heart wobble happily in her chest.

“From all I’ve heard ‘bout ya and yer crew, I think I have t’perfect name fer ya,” he rumbled, the corners of his eyes crinkling from happiness and some pride as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

Finding herself rather breathless, Sarah gazed up at Davy with a shy but attentive gaze.  The fact that she was infamous enough for the captain of the dead to hear about still filled her with a sort of embarrassed pride.  Her heart clenched with a pleasant pain as her eyes met his and she felt the urge to taste his lips once more.  “I, Davy Jones, give ye the name of Flame ‘Wolf of the Seas’,” he declared, an odd emotion swirling in his stormcloud gaze as he stared down at her.

“Flame... I like it,” she sighed, unable to break eye contact with the man towering over her.

“Aye.  Ye be a little spitfire, have been since ye were but a spit of a gel.  Now that ye ‘ave yer own crew, ye’ve become a fierce Captain.  Ye’ve done yer parents proud,” he declared, pride and deep affection swirling in his warm glance.

“And yer fine ship shall be known as ‘Full Moon,” he continued, before pulling her into a loose embrace.  One of his dextrous fingers tenderly traced her pale cheek at his cloudy gaze met her sea-green one.  Lost in his eyes, Sarah found herself wrapping her fingers in his short, graying locks and tugged him down for a fierce kiss.

Jones stiffened against her for a few moments before he simply tightened his hold on her and angled his lips over hers, his tongue begging for entrance against her pliant lips.  Groaning into the fabled captain, the now shaking female opened to him and allowed him to swallow her gasp of surprise as he eagerly entered her mouth.  His tongue swirled within her mouth as if he was trying to memorize her taste while his hands clutched her back and held her tight against him.  Her entire body became a swirling fog of lust, love and longing, only to have the magical moment interrupted by a clearing throat.

Pulling away from her companion with reluctance, Sarah turned to see Jack Sparrow smirking at them.  Instead of releasing her, Jones’ hold on her tightened; causing her to look up at her fellow pirate with confusion.  The legendary male’s brow was furrowed and his warm gaze was now cold and hard with rage.  “Ya gonna introduce me t’yer ‘friend’,” Jack purred, his dark eyes full of arrogance and mocking as he walked up to them.

“It seems you two have already met,” she replied, looking between the two men with growing concern.

“Indeed we have, though I can’t say it was a pleasant meeting,” Jones growled, his voice seething with barely contained rage.

“I have the exact opposite recollection,” Jack returned, still smirking like a cat that caught a mouse.  Sarah only sighed as realization slowly dawned upon her.  Her friend and partner had made a shady deal with Jones to get the ‘Pearl’, a deal that had probably ended up only benefitting Sparrow only in the end.  Her suspicions were only confirmed by the tightening of Jones’ arms around her, as if he was trying to protect her.

“Captain Jones just christened me and my ship with a name Jack.  Isn’t that great?” she asked in a too loud voice, squirming within Davy’s iron tight grip to face her partner of four years.

“Did he now?” Jack whispered, his brown eyes gaining a bit of a jealous edge to them.  Sarah sighed in frustration from the sight of it.  She had told her fellow captain years ago that things would never be more than friendly between them.  At the time he had accepted whole heartedly but now it seemed her words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Jack!” she bit out in a warning tone, her turquoise eyes shining dangerously as she glared at him.  Thankfully  _ that _ seemed to get the message across and the dreadlocked male reluctantly bowed to Jones.

Feeling the ferrier of the dead puff up behind her, Sarah looked up to see a look of utter possession on his gaunt face.  His stormy eyes stayed locked on the other male as his hold on her slowly loosened.  Then he was taking a couple steps toward the shorter man, stretching out a pale hand to shake.  Jack looked at Davy with a clear gaze of distrust before reluctantly giving the other pirate his hand.  Jones tensed, glaring slightly as he gave Sparrow’s hand a brief shake while keeping one arm firmly around Sarah’s waist.  “Keep her safe,” the Captain of the ‘Dutchman’ hissed, his icy voice holding no room for argument.

“Always,” Jack hissed, determination and anger in his nearly black orbs while he clenched his hands into fists at his sides.  Then he nodded to them both, turned on his heel and stalked away.

Even after Jack was long gone, Jones couldn’t seem to relax.  He seemed reluctant to release her at any part of their time together.  Some part of his arm was always in contact with her and he even seemed to have an aura about him that kept other men from coming too close.  Even Joe kept his distance, only waving to her from several feet away.  A fact that rather amused Sarah.  Still, it was all too soon that she was finished showing him around.  “That’s all there is,” she sighed, gesturing to the sides with her arms while he held her close to his side.

Jones only smiled down at her, a faint relief on his well-bred features that puzzled her.  With a look in his eyes that made her feel hot all over, the taller male offered his coated arm to her.  Licking her suddenly dry lips, the dark haired female looped her arm in his and allowed him to lead her off the ship.  “Yer ship is lovely but I am happy to be havin’ ye t’meself,” he rumbled, his gaze fixed on her as he led her down the docks at a fast clip.  His heated words nearly left her breathless and it was all she could do to keep up with his hurried pace.

Once they were away from the docks, he lead her unerringly to the strip of sand that was near her house.  “I must admit, when I first heard ye were shippin’ with Jack I thought...,” he growled, almost too quiet for her to hear.  Yet hear she did and she immediately putting on the brakes, stopping in place and bracing herself against the pull of his arm.  This had the desired effect of Jones jolting to a sudden stop and looking back at her with a mixture of shock and outright concern.  Making sure her eyes were locked with his, Sarah took two steps forward and captured his surprisingly cold face in her hands.

“Never,” she hissed, not meaning just Jack.  Ever since she had first met him, she knew there would never be anyone else for her.  She had even gone so far as to stop seeing boys period after her first encounter with him on the beach.  She had seen the pain his wayward lover had caused him and had become determined to not let him down as well.  Even if he eventually left her for his unfaithful female, Sarah had vowed to never take a husband.

Jones jerked under her hands, a look of shocked disbelief crossing his face.  His high cheekbones gave his face an eerily skeletal look and the dark circles surrounding his eyes didn’t help this illusion.  “Never...,” he sighed, bitterness and incredulousness in his voice as he tried to pull back.  Instead of allowing him to back away, Sarah tightened her grip and frowned at him until his gaze met hers once more.

_ “Never!” _ she hissed in a much more firm voice before taking his lips in a possessive, hungry kiss.  Her hands held him in place while her tongue demanded entrance to his mouth, entrance that he gave with a shocked gasp.  Then Jones began returning her fervor, his arms wrapping around her back while her hands tangled in his dual colored hair.  Their tongues seemed to be almost dancing until Sarah broke the kiss with a shuddering sigh.

Resting her forehead against his as best as she could, the panting female once again locked eyes with him as one of her hands came down to cup his cheek.  “I know ye belong t’another but...  If I don’t say this I’ll never forgive myself.  You don’t have to say it back, I just want ye t’listen.  I love ye, I’ve loved ye since I first met ye on this beach,” she declared, giving his nose an affectionate peck.  Her words seemed to make the feared pirate melt from happiness, a warm, loving smile lighting up his entire face.

Then he was scooping her up into his arms and whirling around with her clutched to him tightly.  Genuine laughter left him in long peals as he twirled her, slowing down and eventually stopping to gaze down at her with eyes full of joy.  “Ye love me.  Ye kept coming back every ten years.  Ye, oh Sarah, ye have no idea how much ye have lifted the soul of this old pirate,” he replied, his eyes twinkling as he peppered her forehead and face with gentle kisses.  Yet his grip began to loosen and soon his kisses tapered off as he pulled away from her.

Sarah didn’t even have to look at him to know what was wrong.  As much as it deeply tore at her heart, she forced a reassuring smile onto her too pale face and placed a hand on his arm.  When he looked up at her with a gaze full of shame, she only met him with a look of complete understanding.  “Even if ye still choose her, my Captain,” she sighed, lifting his hand up to her lips to place a gentle kiss on the skin.  She didn’t see the guilt ridden, troubled look in Jones’ eyes.  Then he was pulling her to him, burrowing his nose in her black hair as his arms tightened around her.  His stormcloud gaze stared over the ocean as he seemed to deeply consider something.

Sarah leaned against her silent companion as they watched the sunset.  The remains of their meals were scattered around them but the pair had spent little of their time together actually speaking.  Time was spent with cuddling, caresses, light kisses, and lots of touching.  As the time grew nearer for him to leave, they both found themselves reluctant to have any space between their bodies at all.  Sighing as she looked up at the tense male holding her, the new pirate found herself wishing she could just go with him.  If he wasn’t so attached to his wayward lady, she would be at his feet and begging to accompany him.

When she felt him tense to stand, it took everything she had within her not to tug on him to delay his inevitable absence.  Instead, she followed him into an upright position; wrapping an arm around his lithe waist as she nestled into his side.  The silent captain only placed one of his hands on her shoulder and rubbed soothingly as the orange in the sky began to deepen.  “Come with me to the ocean,” he semi-requested in a quiet, gruff voice, his hand grasping her shoulder in a hard grip as he began to move toward the water.

Sarah followed him wordlessly, doing her best to swallow her tears as the time grew ever closer for yet another ten year separation.  “I ain’t comin’ back,” he sighed, making time seem to freeze as a phantom dagger began to twist in her heart.

“Wh-what?” she gasped out in  a breathless voice.  Jones turned to face her, his gray eyes full of sadness as he cradled her face in his hands.

“I ain’t comin’ back.  I can’t.  Everytime I see you I...  I can’t forget Calypso, she means everything to me,” he continued, his gaze begging for forgiveness while it felt her world was falling apart around her.

Releasing a ragged sigh, Sarah nodded while holding her bitter tears back.  Her heart felt like it was in a tight clamp, filling her chest with a tight, painful feeling.  Swallowing thickly, the piratess met his gaze steadily.  “I know.  I knew that from the moment you told me your name.  My father told stories of you and your crew to keep me quiet at night.  He never knew I was never scared.  I always felt sorry for you, fated to wait alone for a woman who has never shown up,” she replied, forcing a smile that felt weak and brittle.

“Aye, I have forgotten how long I have gone on like this.  Endless years of waiting fer her, only to have me heart broken every time.  Until I met ye...,” he sighed, his voice thick with emotion as he stared down at her.  Then he was gathering her into a tight hug, burrowing his long nose in her hair and inhaling deeply.

“I’ll never forget ye or how ye kept comin’ back.  Ye’ve shown me more care than I’ve had paid t’me in a dog’s age,” he continued in a gruff voice as he slowly released her.  Then he was fumbling at the emerald green sash that adorned his hips.

“Keep this.  If we ever come across each other in our travels, it’ll help me t’know ye,” he urged, pressing the silky fabric into her hands.  Unable to stop the tears from truly coming, Sarah threw herself on him and wrapped her arms around his strong neck.

“I’ll never forget you.  Never.  I’ll wait!  Even if I die of old age, I will wait!” she declared, pressing her lips to his cool cheeks with frantic urgency.  Tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks but the young woman simply found she didn’t care.  To her dismay, Jones pulled her away from him; holding her at an arm’s length while he looked at her with pain filled eyes.

“Ye mustn’t wait fer me anymore.  I won’t be puttin’ ye through what I went through.  Ye need t’take my word that I’ll not be comin’ back,” he bit out, the sorrow in his eyes a clear contradiction to the strained anger in his voice.  Then he was pulling her into a tight embrace, his hand smoothing over her hair as he began to shake.

As the light of day slowly left the sky, Jones captured her lips in one last, tender kiss; his lips lingering as if he was trying to memorize the shape of her mouth.  Then he was ripping himself from her arms and charging out into the ocean to meet the longboat that was slowly heading his way.  If he looked back, he would have seen Sarah sink to her knees as quiet sobs shook her body.  If he saw her, he knew he would lose what little resolve he had to give her up.  It had to be this way, he could not allow himself to fall in love with this woman while he was still committed to Calypso.

Clambering onto the boat and keeping his back turned while his crew rowed to his hidden ship, Jones clutched his hands into tight fists as his heart twisted and churned within his chest.  Even now his urge to tell the young female he loved her was nearly overpowering.  Even now he could forget his committed relationship with the Goddess of the Sea and begin anew with this mortal woman.  Steeling himself against the feelings that burned at his very soul, Davy swallowed his sorrow as they grew ever closer to the ‘Dutchman’.  Only when he was aboard did he look back to see the small figure of the female still on the beach.  As the ‘Dutchman’ began to move, Jones made a silent vow to never feel again.  He was done waiting for Calypso.

A choking sensation, then she was being yanked to her feet as she was forced from her scattered dreams and memories.  Barely able to open her eyes fully, Flame was forced onto all fours; a blurred face coming into her vision.  “All these years and ye still hunted fer me.  What made ye think I’d want anythin’ t’do with ye,” Jones snarled, the tentacles on his face slapping her as her vision cleared.  Deciding it was best not to answer, the painfully thin pirate looked up at the beastly captain.

“Ye stupid wench!  I’ll make sure ye know yer place this very day,” he bit out, the valve in his left cheek popping as he straightened and pulled her along by her long, ebony hair.

Gritting her teeth against the pained noises that boiled behind her lips, the ex-captain followed along on all fours.  As hard as it was to keep up like that, Jones hadn’t given her permission to walk normally and she didn’t want to risk whatever was going to happen being worse.  He led her to a large mast that jutted from the middle of the deck, his corpse-like eyes scanning his crew as they milled around.  “Gather ‘round ye dogs,” he hollered as he yanked her upright by her hair and tying her arms to the huge mast.  Then he was tearing her clothes off while the various crew members gathered.

“This lil whore has been a very naughty gel,” he snarled, shoving her legs open and tying her ankles at the base of the mast.  The only warning she got was the sound of his belt before he began to take her hard and rough.

It was all she could do to keep in her cries of pain, doing her best to relax into the onslaught.  Biting her lips at the lovecraftian captain pounded into her mercilessly, Flame prayed for it to be over swiftly.  “Ye cannae love this,” he hissed in her ear as he suddenly pulled out of her.  She only had a few seconds of reprieve before something slimy and slithery invaded her nethers.  Jolting at the odd touch earned her a sharp hit on her ass, making her eyes water as the unusual intrusion continued.

“Even the presence of me heart doesn’t stop me violatin’ ye when and where I want,” he snarled before he pulled himself from her.  The crew around them began to mumble, a few whispering about whether or not the captain would be giving her to them when he was finished.  Then he was cutting the ropes and scooping her limp, naked body into his strong arms, his clouded gaze glaring at the ‘men’ that surrounded them.

“Don’t be gettin’ any ideas.  I may give you lot a show but she belongs t’me,” he hissed as he carried her back to his cabin.  Once inside, he was throwing her onto his bed and spreading her legs wide to examine her.

Opting to stay silent, Flame merely stared at the shelf above her.  The urn that rested there released a soothing bass pulse, filling the weary female with love and fervent apology.  Jones, on the other hand, felt a deep guilt that only served to fuel his smoldering ire.  No matter how hard he fought it, it was getting harder and harder for him to treat her with the same disregard he would any of his crew.  Just seeing the blood from his most recent assault filled him with a gut wrenching nausea.  Glaring up at the object that was causing these unwanted emotions, he tended to her wounds while he plotted how to rid himself of both problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: *cough* And here, Jones is a jerk.


	7. Subjugation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: The next chapters are gonna be all sorts of fun to write. *end sarcasm*

Flame was unsurprised when Jones grabbed her hair in a rough grip when he was done tending to the wounds he had caused.  In fact, she had expected it.  When he forced her to all fours, she merely complied; looking up at him with her sea-green eyes.  The tentacled male only sneered down at her, making a twirling motion with his mostly human right hand.  In said appendage, a glowing rope that looked like it was made out of souls appeared.  Then he was attaching it to her neck, ignoring her wince of pain as it burned her skin as well as the resulting guilt from the heart on the shelf above his bed.  “Since I can’t ge’ rid o’ ya, yer t’be no more than a pet.  Yer t’stay on all fours at all times and yer no’ allowed t’wear clothes.  Yer also forbidden to talk t’any o’ the crew, do ye understand?” he hissed, bringing his mucus coated face within inches of her own.

Rather than answering verbally and risk another flogging, the former captain settled for nodding while keeping eye contact.  “Gewd, seems ye’ve alreaday learned.  Come, we be goin’ on deck t’decide what’s to be done with the ‘Pearl’,” Jones snarled, giving the glowing leash a harsh yank and causing the cord around her neck to burn her severely.  Biting her lip to keep in her pain, Flame crawled after him as fast as her wasted limbs could manage.  Without being able to eat properly, her disease was effectively going into hyperdrive.  It wouldn’t be too much longer before the fight to save Jones would simply be taken out of her hands.  She was snapped out of her dreary thoughts when the beastly captain yanked her to a stop.  Wincing at the burning pain in her neck, the piratess looked up to see they were at the wheel of the ‘Dutchman’.

“Bootstrap!” he screamed, summoning a man that was very familiar to the humiliated woman.  After a few seconds of looking at the man’s tired, deformed face, she recognized him as the one that had cleaned her wounds when she had been in the brig.  Yet, as happy as she was to see a friendly face, Flame didn’t dare even smile at him.  In fact she averted her eyes as soon as she recognized him.

The malformed male that was called ‘Bootstrap’ swayed a bit on his feet, his dead eyes significantly duller than usual.  He didn’t even acknowledge the naked female that was sitting on the deck beside Jones’ normal left leg, instead keeping his gaze on his superior.  “Ay cap’n,” he sighed in a bone tired voice, looking like he was on the verge of collapsing like a bunch of broccoli.

“Take some men ye trust and captain the ‘Pearl’ fer me,” the cthulu-like male ordered before taking the wheel in his right hand.  A scowl furrowed his slimy brow as he stared at the span of ocean in front of the ship.  Sparrow had attacked him not once, but twice.  Something he simply wasn’t willing to tolerate.  If the foolish pirate still sailed the seas, Jones would hunt him down until time itself ended.

The next thing Flame became aware of was a sharp kick to her ribs.  Gasping and arching in pain, the young woman sat up as she came to the realization that she had fallen asleep.  Before she could apologize, her stomach cramped violently and she found herself dry heaving just as violently.  Tears flowed from her turquoise eyes as her body spasmed and clenched helplessly.  Nothing came up, only long strings of saliva.  She was so distracted by the fruitless retching that she didn’t notice Jones’ gaze go from furious to downright worried.  Flame was starting to get worried herself when the heaving didn’t stop within a few minutes.

All of a sudden the ex-captain found herself swept into a pair of arms while she still gagged helplessly.  Unable to speak or struggle, the sick female simply allowed him to carry her to his cabin.  Then he was laying her in his dilapidated bed before he turned his back on her and began rummaging in several drawers.  After a few minutes of this, with Flame still trying vainly to bring up anything from her spasming gullet, Jones whirled around with a clear, purple bottle in his hands.  “Drink,” he hissed, his icy eyes holding just a touch of concern.  She wanted to argue that she doubted she could drink anything at all but she was unable to speak due to the frequency of the retching.

Taking the bottle, Flame waited for a good enough span between the heaves to down the mixture in one gulp.  The taste alone was nearly enough to set her off worse.  Holding a hand over her mouth, the piratess prayed to Neptune that she wouldn’t simply vomit the potion back up.  Thankfully, after a few seconds her stomach blessedly settled.  As the vile tasting fluid began to take effect, she noticed Jones looking over her body as if he was seeing just how thin she was for the first time.  She was certainly a lot more thin than the last time he had taken notice, a fact that made concern pulse from the urn above her.  “Wha’ th’hell is wrong wi’ ye,” he bit out, very slight worry under his furious tone.

“There’s no point in keepin’ it from ya any longer.  You’d find out soon enough.  In a few days I’ll be too weak to even move from this bed,” the weakened woman sighed as her heaving and gagging slowly tapered off to nothing.

Jones only looked down at her impatiently, tapping his one foot against the rotted floorboards of his cabin.  Knowing he wouldn’t wait much longer, Flame took a deep breath before saying, “I have a wasting disease,” in a voice that was no more than a whisper.  It seemed the lovecraftian captain heard her though as he swayed heavily, having to lean on his barnacle encrusted cane for support.

“Yer dyin’,” he breathed, all his rage leaving for outright shock.

“Essentially yes,” she sighed, moving a lock of her slightly greasy hair behind her ear.  She hadn’t had a bath in days due to being nothing more than a prisoner but she had honestly shoved such things to the back of her head.  She knew when she was getting into this that it would be a very hard road.  Jones had effectively given up on feeling anything for anyone and with that came severe consequences for whoever dared to make him feel.

“How long?” the octopus-like captain asked, his voice regaining some of it authority but still sounding a bit shell shocked.

“At the rate I’m going, I probably only have a handful of days left.  Lack of food hasn’t been helping my condition,” the all too thin, too pale female replied; beginning to shiver from her lack of clothing and body fat.  Though she was cold, she didn’t dare wrap herself in the ratty blanket on the bed and risk Jones’ wrath.

Frowning at her response, the monstrous male first wrapped the tattered blanket around her shuddering shoulders then walked to the door.  “Shark Fin!” he screamed out of the open entry, not the least bit shocked when a shark headed pirate appeared in front of him almost instantly.

“Get a few apples from th’stores along wi’ some crackers.  I reckon there be some left from th’last ship we plundered,” he ordered before turning to glare at the wasted female on his bed.

Flame only looked at him with resignation in her turquoise eyes.  Surely now he would commence with another beating, draining even more of her precious reserves.  Shutting her eyes, the weary female relaxed as much as possible in order to mitigate any pain that might come.  Instead of the ropes and whip she had been expecting, she was pulled into a tight hug as wave after wave of heartbreak poured from the contained heart above the bed.  “Oh Sarah, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he growled in an unsteady voice as his arms began to shake around her.

“If I did, I doubt it would have mattered much,” the piratess chuckled weakly into his sea worn clothing.  A knock on the door tore the conflicted looking male away from her to gather the items he had ordered.  Then he was offering her a small burlap sack full of crackers and a few apples.

“Eat as much as ye can,” he growled, not taking his dead gaze off her thin form.  As he watched her, he found himself agreeing with her earlier statement.  If she had told him any sooner, it wouldn’t have changed how he treated her one whit.  The only thing that had made him even come close to showing her concern was currently in a coral-like urn and was sitting on a shelf above his bed.  Right now said organ was pouring wave after wave of sickening worry, making the normally unfeeling male sway a bit on his feet.

Watching him closely, Flame opened the sack and began to nibble on some crackers.  At first, just the food hitting her stomach caused a powerful wave of nausea.  Closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths, she managed to stave off another bout of heaving and cautiously continued to nibble on the small square.  Thankfully her rebellious stomach accepted the small amount of food and she was able to get that one cracker down.  Deciding to err on the side of caution for a bit, the sickly woman grabbed another and began to nibble slowly; Jones watching her every move closely.

After a few crackers, the former captain took an exceedingly tiny bite of an apple.  The sugars alone were enough to make her frail gullet lurch but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the first cracker had been.  Waiting for the most recent wave to pass, Flame looked up at the man standing in front of her.  Even with all the things his neglect of his duties had done to his body, she could still see the handsome, noble looking man beneath it all.  Giving the glowering pirate a small smile, the woman took another bite of her apple.  Thankfully she was able to get the whole thing down but she highly doubted she would be able to eat anymore.  Her illness along with the fact that she hadn’t eaten regularly had significantly shrunk the size of her stomach.  “Thanks,” she whispered, locking eyes with Jones.

For a split second, Jones was caught off guard as his dreams of late came back to him.  All his memories of her played before his closed eyes, making his breathing grow ragged and rough.  Her sea-green eyes shown with love, laughter and a zest for life.  Opening his eyes and looking at the pale female before him, he saw she was a mere shadow of her lively self.  She still looked determined to live but all the laughter had faded from her gaze.  Yet, despite all he had done to her, her expression still glowed with love and loyalty.  All of a sudden it was too much and Jones slid to his knees as the feelings from the heart flowed into his chest, becoming actual emotions and not just shadows.  “Sarah,” he gasped as the first tears in years rolled down his mucus coated cheeks.

As if sensing the sudden change, Flame was slipping to her knees and wrapping him into a tight hug.  The beastly male only looked shocked for a few moments before he cautiously wrapped his own arms around her.  For the first time in years, he felt guilt, sorrow and an extreme protectiveness.  “Can ye ever forgive me?” he whispered in a broken voice, his hold gradually growing tighter; as if afraid she was simply going to run away from him.

“There’s nothing to forgive Davy.  I understand, believe me I do.  If you were in your right mind, you would never have lifted so much as a finger against me,” the bone thin woman replied, a small smile on her face.  While she hoped this new Jones would last, she certainly didn’t expect it to.  The man had been through an emotional Hell for centuries and had ended up tearing out his own heart to escape the pain, there were bound to be set-backs.  Whatever happened, she would stay by his side until this disease killed her.

Jones’ arms tightened around her as all his emotions slowly filled the empty spot in his chest.  He was overwhelmed with love, guilt and a strong self hatred.  All the things he had done to her and yet she was ready to completely erase it all.  To him, there was no excuse for his behavior.  “I’ll make it up to ye, I promise,” he whispered, the valve in his left cheek popping quietly.  Before she could even reply, he was picking her up as he got to his feet and laying her gently on the bed.

“We need t’look for Calypso, stay here and rest.  I’ll be returnin’ shortly,” he husked out, his voice heavy with emotion as he trailed a finger down a pale cheek.  Then he was limping out the door, his cane tapping against the blackened floorboards.

Flame watched him until he was gone, curling up on her side as she huddled under the thin blanket.  She knew getting dressed would help her keep warm but Jones hadn’t given her permission to dress.  Although he had seemed to have embraced his memories and emotions, she thought it would be prudent to not take any chances.  After all, who knew what would make him have a massive set back in his recovery.  As she settled, she found herself wondering how Jones was going to find Calypso, let alone go ashore to find her.  It had only been six years since his last shore leave, nowhere near enough time to allow him to be on land.  Though just finding her would be challenge enough.

Long ago she had heard rumors of the Sea Goddess being imprisoned in a human body by a council of pirates in a vain effort to bring the seas into more controlled state.  She never quite believed it but with everything that happened, she found herself wondering.  How did a group of pirates even manage such a feat if it was true?  The whole thing seemed sorta fantastic until she realized just where she was.  She was on a ‘ghost ship’ and in love with a legendary captain, who was she to say just what was too fantastic?  Sighing, she decided to try to get some sleep.

She was awoken by a gentle shaking of her shoulder and she rolled to see Jones staring down at her.  “Ye didn’t get dressed,” he murmured quietly, his brow furrowed with guilt as well as a bit of confusion.

“You didn’t give me permission to,” she replied simply, slowly sitting up.  Unfortunately that small movement was enough to set off her stomach again.  Turning an alarming shade of green, Flame flung open the porthole over the bed and promptly vomited out of it.

Jones was behind her in seconds, placing his mostly human right hand on her back.  Once the newest wave stopped, the weak pirate nearly collapsed into the man behind her.  While she drifted in and out of consciousness, he was pressing his semi-slimy, cold hand to her forehead.  “Yer freezing,” he hissed, laying her back down and going to a pile of clothes that was in the far corner of the room.  All of them were clothes that had been taken from the dead or ships they attacked and served as extra garments for the whole crew.  Piles like this were scattered all over the below decks of the ship, giving the men easy access so they didn’t have to bother the irritable captain.

After a few moments of rummaging, he returned with a shirt and a pair of pants as well as some underwear.  Then he was sitting her up and helping her dress, his touch more gentle than she had felt since she came aboard.  Once she was in the garments, he was once again pressing his half-formed hand to her forehead.  “Yer still freezin’,” he hissed, sounding even more worried.  To her shock, he then crawled into the bed with her and held her tight against him.  The tentacles on his chin gently played with her hair as he held her.

“How are we going to find Calypso, let alone try to get her help?  None of you can go ashore with the exception of myself and I somehow doubt she’d want to help her rival,” Flame whispered, closing her eyes as she simply enjoyed his nearness.

“She... she was never yer rival.  Yes, I fell for her first and she gave me this job but she has never been there.  Not once, in all my years of doing this, has she shown up on my one day ashore.  You, from the first moment ye me, you were waitin’ on that beach for me until I returned.  You made me feel more loved, cherished and wanted than she ever did,” he whispered into her ebony hair.

Elation filled her at his declaration and her heart began to race in her chest.  He had practically confessed that he loved her just as much as she did him and it filled her with a warm happiness.  A warmth that was quickly replaced with a cold wash of fear.  While Jones may not see her and Calypso as rivals, there was no guarantee that the temperamental Goddess would feel the same.  If she was truly trapped in a mortal body, would she still have her Godly powers?  “I’ll not let her harm ye,” he murmured before his gaze travelled to the black, almost living urn.

As he looked at the container, he found himself thinking about something he never thought he would.  How could he declare her safety from Calypso when  he had been the cause for most of her suffering?  The only way he could be sure of her safety was to put his heart back where it belonged and resume his duties as ferryman of the dead.  Waiting until the exhausted woman had fallen into a deep sleep, Jones gently pulled away to stand and stare at the urn.  The heart inside shuddered with happiness and anticipation, making the cthulu-like captain frown slightly.  Then he was grabbing the object and closing his eyes.

There was a dull glow around him and the urn as a heavy sensation filled his chest.  Opening his eyes, he saw the container was gone and he felt a faint beating in his chest.  Placing his crab claw over his heart, Jones looked up at the sleeping Flame.  The newly replaced organ clenched painfully from the force of his love and the guilt of what he had done to her.  “I swear, as long as I live, I will find a way to redeem myself for my actions against ye,” he whispered, stuck between wanting to captain his ship and wanting to watch her sleep.  In the end, he curled up in the bed beside her and held her in a tight embrace as he drifted into his own slumber.


	8. Lean on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: *bats at butterflies* Not too many chapters left now!

The first thing Flame became aware of was the roaring, churning nausea in the pit of her stomach.  The next thing she became aware of was the fact she was being held in a pair of mismatched arms.  Unfortunately her gullet took precedence over her curiosity and she was throwing opening the porthole to vomit whatever was left of her meager dinner.  “Sarah,” rasped a concerned, familiar voice as a half human hand came to rest on her back.  Gagging helplessly, the former captain could only heave and shudder until the wave ended; falling backwards into her companion’s arms.  “Ye’re gettin’ worse,” he hissed in a worried voice, pressing a slimy, tentacle covered hand against her forehead.

“Jones?” she croaked in a wispy voice, clutching to his sea-worn lapel as she tried to force her eyes to focus.

“Aye.  I sent Bootstrap out with the ‘Pearl’ t’find Sparrow and his crew.  He be flyin’ a white flag but I doubt that’d be enough t’entice Jack t’stop,” came an accented rumble as she was gently laid down on the cool, dirty sheets.

“Shoulda had him paint a wolf silhouette on it.  That was our secret code for me being in distress,” she replied in a weak voice, closing her turquoise eyes as the world tilted and blurred around her.

“C’n ye eat?” came a worried rasp as the bed shifted.  Hazarding to open one eye, the fading female saw the legendary male standing next to her bed.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that now.  Any food I put down now will just come back up later.  I need to conserve my strength and not allow myself to get dehydrated by vomiting,” Flame replied in a weak voice as her eyes slid closed once more.  Just the few seconds they had been open had caused unbearable nausea.

“Then we be lucky tha’ the ‘Pearl’ c’n travel fast,” Davy sighed in a worried voice, running his shaky left hand over his bulbous head.

“Jack!” hollered the shrill and all too unpleasant voice of Elizabeth, making the hung-over captain wake up in a foul mood.

“The ‘Black Pearl’ is trailing us!” came Wil’s urgent yell, waking him up fully in an instant.  There was only one reason why Jones would have sent the supernaturally fast ship, to catch and kill him.  He would have to hope the ship he had commandeered would be fast enough to keep some distance between them while he and his crew fled.

“Get th’longboats ready, we’ll try t’get as close t’shore as possible before we make a run fer it,” Sparrow ordered, swaying as he got to his feet and got dressed.  His head throbbed like a rotten tooth, making the dreadlocked male regret the amount of Rum he had put away the other night.

Throwing on his hat and coat, Jack ran out onto the deck of his ship, heading to the helm to assess the position of the ‘Pearl’.  His almost black eyes widened when he saw her flying a white flag.  Either it was an elaborate, cruel ruse or something was terribly wrong.  “Hold a moment,” he ordered, holding up a half gloved hand to still the frantic movement of his crew below.  Elizabeth, Will and Mr. Gibbs looked up at him like he had lost his mind but Sparrow paid the trio very little mind.  The only thing he could think of was how Sarah had looked when he last saw her and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

“Drop th’sails!  We’re comin’ to a full stop,” ordered the pirate, glaring down at his crew when they all stared up at him.

“Jack, we have to escape!  That white flag could be a trap!” Wil reasoned, looking from the longboat to the man above him.

“Escape if ye feel ye need ta, I be stayin’,” Jack barked, only relaxing slightly when his crew did as he asked.  Only Wil and elizabeth kept preparing an escape vessel.  Soon the rest of his crew joined them, not that he could blame them.  If he was in their shoes, he would be cursing the captain as a fool while rowing away as fast as his arms could manage.

As the ‘Pearl’ steadily grew closer, his crew poured off the ship like rats; leaving him with Wil, Elizabeth and Mr. Gibbs.  “Jack, don’t be a fool.  Jones has been after yer soul fer a long time.  He be doin’ anythin’ t’get his slimy hands on it,” the bearded man whispered, placing a large hand on the younger pirate’s arm.

“Aye, I know Mr. Gibbs.  Sarah is with him and last I saw, she didn’t look well,” Jack replied, a worried look on his tanned face as he watched the dark ship pull up next to them.

“Ye mean th’lil’ girl who used to ship wi’ya six years ago?” Gibbs asked, his brown eyes shimmering with fond memory.  Joy was quickly replaced by stark fear as the older male realized just what his captain had told him.

“What she be doin’ with th’likes of Jones,” he hissed, fear for the woman shining in his dark eyes as he clasped his captain’s jacket.

“She and he have a history, long afore he became what ye know him as now.  She has some fool idea that she c’n save him,” Jack replied, slightly surprised that Wil and Elizabeth had yet to take off.  It would only be a few more minutes before the ‘Pearl’ was within boarding distance.  Soon it would be too late for them to escape if this was, indeed, a trap.

“You two best be off if yer leavin’ at all,” the infamous pirate hollered to the pair, knowing full well Gibbs wasn’t going anywhere now.  Not only was the man loyal but he and Sarah had formed quite a relationship, almost like a father and daughter.  The older male had doted on the woman, often stealing her little trinkets or taking care of her when she had been sick.  If anything happened to her, the bearded man would be just as affected as Sparrow.

“Jack, this is crazy!” Elizabeth cried, her and her fair haired lover looking rather torn.  Their survival instincts were screaming at them to flee while their loyalty yelled at them to stay.

“I know luv.  You and Wil get offa here.  If this be a trap, there be no need fer ye t’get caught,” Jack yelled to the pair, worry for them tugging at his heart faintly.  The blonde male only stared at him assessingly, guilt all over his handsome face.

“Go on, ye c’n always rescue me later,” the dreadlocked male replied, shooing the pair with his half gloved hands, his loose, white sleeves billowing as he moved.  The lovebirds only gave him equally guilty looks before they climbed into the longboat and lowered it down.

“I don’t even have t’ask if ye be stayin’ Mr. Gibbs.  Just keep yerself safe,” Jack whispered to the man standing beside him, his former ship pulling up beside them as Wil and Elizabeth rowed toward shore.

“Ye don’ have t’worry ‘bout me Jack.  I c’n take care o’ meself,” the older male replied with a dangerous grin, watching as a gangplank was flung over to join the two ships.  Only one male came over, Bootstrap.

“Hello Jack,” sighed the worn looking, deformed male, walking toward them slowly with his empty hands held outwards.

Jones paced the tiny room like a caged tiger, his mismatched hands clasped behind his back as he limped awkwardly.  Flame lay on the bed, either sleeping or keeping her eyes shut; her thin chest moving shallowly.  Every now and then the transformed captain would stop and give the sickly female a deeply worried, guilty glance.  He could never erase the things he had done to her simply because she had made him remember her but right now all he cared about was making her better.  To have any hope of achieving that he needed Jack’s help.

Sighing, the cthulu-esque captain grabbed his cane before lurching over to his door.  Sitting and waiting was going to drive him mad.  Right now, he was going to do something that would help his chances with Calypso; he was going to resume his duties as ferryman of the dead.  There was no danger of losing Bootstrap if he moved the ship, all his crew member were able to instinctually locate the ‘Dutchman’ when separated or sent out on an errand.  This allowed him the freedom to go about his duties while his crew delegated things for him.  Giving Flame one last, worried glance, Jones left the room and shut the door behind himself.

Lumbering his way up to the helm of his ship, the monstrous captain stood behind the wheel and glared down at his deformed crew.  “Prepare t’go to the ‘Locker’,” he hissed, feeling just the slightest bit of his normal sadistic pleasure when his men gave him varying degrees of horrified looks.

“It be long past time tha’ I resume my duties,” the tentacled male snarled before closing his eyes and concentrating on a connection that had been long dormant.  It was like opening a floodgate, filling his body with a rush of spiritual power as a dark vortex began to form under the ‘Dutchman’.  His crew scrambled to tie down the sails and cannons before fleeing to below deck.  Only Jones himself could safely stay above while the ship sank into an entirely different dimension.  A dimension where souls waited in purgatory for him to lead them onto the next life.  With how long he had been neglecting his duties, there was bound to be millions and they were more than likely pissed.

Gripping onto the wheel tightly, the beastly pirate merely braced himself as the ‘Flying Dutchman’ lowered itself into the swirling portal bow first.  As the ghostly ship moved between realms, it was surrounded by a glowing, swirling whirlpool that formed a long corridor.  The closer the large vessel got to the end, the more Jones became aware of angry, bitter voices whispering.  He had wronged a lot of the souls here, had even used the spirits themselves to repair his ship without their permission.  He would be lucky if the ‘Dutchman’ wasn’t simply swamped as soon as it appeared.

Flame was awoken by the ship rocking violently back and forth, making her instincts kick in.  She was on her feet and looking for a weapon before she became fully conscious, trying to ignore the lurching of her temperamental stomach.  Managing to not go into dry heaves through sheer force of will alone, the former captain grabbed the nearest cutlass and ran out onto the deck.  What she saw nearly made her jaw drop through the rotted wood.

They appeared to be in the middle of a black, completely dead ocean.  An ocean that was filled with the glowing effigies of the dead Jones had long neglected.  Right now the rightfully pissed shades were doing their level best to capsize the ‘Dutchman’ to take out their frustrations on the wayward ferryman and his crew.  “Hold yer wrath!  I have come to take ye all on to th’next life,” the octopus-like pirate announced to the rapidly growing mob of souls.  This only served in making the nearly insane souls more agitated.  If this went on for too much longer, they would end up swamping the ship and adding the crew to their numbers.

Her body was moving forward before she even noticed, sprinting to the helm and clambering onto the ornately carved railing.  Surveying the surging wave of the dead, the former captain cupped her hands around her mouth, took a deep breath and let loose a loud imitation of a wolf howl.  This sound effectively caused everything to stop in place, the dead and the crew all turning to look at her.  “I know you’re angry, you have every right to be after being stuck in an endless, changeless nothing while mere inches from paradise.  It must have been maddening and I cannot blame you for your rage.  But capsizing and drowning us will not free you from your prison.  If you kill Jones, there will be no one to take his place and you will be trapped here forever.  If you can put aside your fury, we can help you move on,” the female pleaded in a loud, booming voice, a huge shock given her current condition.

One lone ghost pulled himself from the crowd, a tired, worn look on his unnaturally pale, bearded face.  He was washed of all color with the exception of a very pale green and he was transparent to the point of barely being visible.  A phantom sword stuck out from his chest and his face looked haggard, sad and lost.  “Ye cannot understand wha’ we’ve been goin’ through lass bu’ I can see th’wisdom o’ yer words.  Wha’ assurance do we have tha’ this here dog will continue t’do his job,” the shade husked his voice sounding like it was coming from nowhere and everywhere.

“All I can offer is the information that he has replaced his heart.  If you need any proof of his change, I am willing to offer it,” Flame replied, her sea-green eyes shining with determination as she glared down at the continuously growing mob.

“What proof would ye be willin’ t’offer?” the old soul whispered, a resigned look on his hauntingly sad face.  The ex-captain only gave the massive crowd a grim look before simply leaning forward and letting herself fall into the dead waters below.

As soon as he had seen her on the decorative backing, Jones had felt an ominous churning in the pit of his gut.  When she had begun talking about providing proof of his conviction, he began to move toward her; feeling as if he was running through molasses.  When she actually leaned forward and began to fall he had been close enough for the tentacle on his right hand to touch her shirt.  Then she was plunging downward and his newly replaced heart went with her, his dead eyes widening with abject terror.  Within seconds time seemed to hit fast forward and the feared pirate was peeling off his heavy jacket before diving over after her.

Breath left her body as soon as her body hit the ethereal water, her heart also halting in her chest.  The startled souls that had parted on her collision, now swam down after her; the old pirate from earlier grabbing a hold of her and dragging her upwards.  They broke the surface with a speed that made her head spin but as soon as her body was freed from the fluid it began to function again.  She barely had enough time to really comprehend what had happened before another, much more heavy body hit the water nearby.  “Davy,” she gasped out in a breathless voice, her body still weak from very nearly dying.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Jones.  He be immune to th’effect o’ th’water.  I’m jest surprised he came in after ye,” the shade holding her whispered as the tentacled male surfaced and began to swim towards them at a shockingly fast pace.

“Give her t’me,” the legendary male husked out, his deep voice shaky as he held out his arms for the shaking, soaked female.  Fear stood out in his filmy, blue eyes as he stared up at the soul with an apprehensive expression.

“I think it best I hold her fer now.  If one part o’ her touches that stuff, she’ll be dead afore yer crew is finished lowerin’ th’boat t’rescue ye,” the old male replied, his grip shifting as he made sure Flame was secure in his incorporeal arms.  Then the two pirates locked eyes as they seemed to assess eachother, the mass of souls peacefully floating around them.

“Ye would lay down yer life fer this woman?  Would ye show th’same dedication t’yer duties?” the weary male sighed as a long boat was lowered to retrieve the pair.

“I swear t’ye, I’ll find a way t’make up fer all my sins,” the lovecraftian captain replied, his eyes staying locked on the floating shade as he placed Flame into the longboat.  His words held a double meaning, made obvious when his faded blue gaze slowly moved to fix on the obviously ailing female.

“Aye, I reckon ye have a lo’ t’atone fer.  Fer now, ye bes’ get t’work,” the slowly blinking soul whispered before disappearing into the ‘Dutchman’s’ hull.  It was soon followed by an absolute flood, making the ship glow a faint, sickly green.  Climbing into the boat and taking the already fading woman into his arms, Jones could only watch as she slowly slipped into unconsciousness.  In her condition, maybe this was the kindest thing that could happen to her.

Within moments, the boat was hauled up and Jones was striding to his cabin while his crew started to raise the sails; Flame dangling from his mismatched arms.  His limp was more pronounced, his crab leg making walking while carrying something really difficult but he managed to make it to his cabin without tripping or dropping the delicate female.  Placing her gently on the filthy sheets, Jones carefully pulled a blanket over her thin frame before grabbing a spare cane and tottering out the door.  Everything within him screamed at him to stay by her side but he had a duty to fulfill, a duty he could no longer neglect if he wanted to help her.

Making his way to the helm, the deformed male gripped the wheel; a strong wind starting as soon as his ‘hands’ met the warped wood.  Soon the ship began to move at an unnatural speed, the ethereal air around them blurring into blues and purples as a light appeared in the distance.  Focusing his zombie-like gaze, Jones merely kept the ‘Dutchman’ on a straight line as it sped towards the impossibly bright light.  Yet, despite how bright it was, it didn’t hurt to look at.  In fact, he felt an odd sense of comfort and belonging.

Feeling at peace for the first time in centuries, the ferrier of the dead felt a smile curl his slimy lips as his ship came to a slow, gentle stop.  As soon as the ‘Flying Dutchman’ halted, the souls poured out in a rush; more and more of the ancient vessel restoring itself as they left.  While still black in color, the wood was gradually restored to new and the sails billowed with new life.  Even the clothes themselves restored, becoming almost new once more.  “Are ye, are ye forgivin’ me?” the ancient male asked the glowing light in a halting, emotion filled voice, his heart nearly stopping in his chest when his world filled with bright, white light.


	9. Bitter Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Some more past!

It had been two years since Jones had left her behind, two years and she still went to the beach in some vain hope that he didn’t mean what he had said.  He had never lied to her before and she knew she was unlikely to see him before ten years had passed, yet she felt some compulsion to keep coming.  She felt that if she didn’t, she was breaking a promise to the lonely captain.  She had even gone so far as to stop going pirating, preferring to spend her day hopelessly waiting.  She was in denial and she knew it but nothing could break her from her vigil.  The only person that visited her was Jack.

Today was no exception, the infamous pirate sitting next to her as they enjoyed the lunch she had packed.  Well, Sarah more picked at her sandwich while her companion simply dug in.  “You haven’t been eating or sleeping since Jones left,” her partner observed, breaking the silence and jolting her out of her inner thoughts.

“I haven’t really felt like it,” she sighed, taking another nibble of her first and only sandwich.  The man beside her pursed his lips as he set down his fourth sandwich and leveled her with a serious look.

“Ye may be holdin’ a candle fer a monster.  I’ve been hearin’ things around the seas about Jones.  I’ve heard that he no longer has a heart and has stopped ferrying the dead.  I’ve heard he be turnin’ into a monster,” Jack gritted out, fear for her stark in his dark orbs.

“You lie!  There’s no way he could do that!  You don’t know him!” the piratess snarled getting to her feet and curling her hands into fists by her sides.

“Can ye say that  you do?  Just how long have ye met with him?  Even if you’ve met with him many times, he be only able to come ashore every ten years,” the taller man reasoned, getting to his feet and gripping her clothed arms in both hands.

“Ye haven’t been on the seas in two years Sarah, ye haven’t seen what I have.  I thought they were but rumors myself until I started seein’ the signs.  Have ye not noticed that the ocean has been restless as of late?” the pirate continued, his gaze moving out to the choppy stretch of water.  Sarah followed his gaze concern and denial clear on her features.  Then she was pulling herself out of her friend’s hold, shaking her dark haired head.

She logically knew he was right but she just couldn’t bring herself to accept it.  She simply didn’t want that fate for the legendary captain.  She loved him so much that she honestly couldn’t believe he would shirk his duty and allow the world to slip into chaos.  Yet, underneath that, the pirate knew what Jack was telling her made too much sense.  It was entirely possible that Davy had gotten fed up with Calypso’s constant failure to show up.  If that was the case, the ferrier of the dead could have very well done just what her partner said.  In an effort to escape her distressing thoughts and the very real possibility that Jones had turned into a monster, the newly dubbed Flame ran to her small house; never seeing the odd look Jack had on his tanned face as he watched her retreat.

Two years passed before Jack showed up again, a very odd occurrence given how close the two of them had become.  Before, he had been with her every day, talking to her as she stared out at the empty ocean.  After their last conversation, Sarah found herself feeling a bit paranoid about what the male was up to.  Did it have anything to do with Jones?  Was he actively hunting for the legendary pirate?  She still found herself bothered by Sparrow’s suspicions but as the years wore on, she found herself noticing more and more imbalance in the seas themselves.  Eventually, she had to accept the fact that  something was certainly wrong.

Sighing, the dark haired female packed her usual large bag of food before heading to the beach.  There had been a lot of strange weather lately as well as the fact that the fish were beginning to become scarce.  The water itself had become wholly uncooperative, the tides and currents often changing after no change in thousands of years.  If it kept on like this, it wouldn’t be too long before bad consequences would be seen all over the world.  Sitting down, Flame tried to shove the discussion to the back of her mind but still felt restless.  She had been feeling increasingly like she needed to go out in search of Jones and as the years had worn on, she had felt less and less inclined to ignore it.

A sudden, large hand on her shoulder nearly made her heart stop in her chest and she very nearly flew into the air.  As it was, she jumped to her feet and spun to face the intruder, all fear and anger fading as soon as she saw the tired, grizzled looking face of Jack Sparrow.  The man looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks and if she wasn’t so paranoid about the reason he was gone, she would have been downright worried.  “Where have you been?” was the first thing out of her mouth, sounding angry and accusatory.  The exhausted captain only sat on the blanket she had spread on the sand, staring down at his hands that were clasped in his lap.

“Ya won’t like my answer,” he replied in a tired sigh, his hands clasping themselves tightly.

“What have you been doing?” Sarah gritted out, fear and rage fighting for top spot within her.

“I’ve been looking for the truth of things and what I founds was... disturbing.  All the rumors I heard be true lass.  Jones gave up his heart sometime around the time he left.  He’s become a terror on the seas, raidin’ ships for new crew members and souls to repair the ‘Dutchman’ with.  I been lookin’ for information on the whereabouts of his heart,” he answered, avoiding her gaze as he spoke softly; just a hint of regret in his baritone voice.

“And what would you do with the heart once you had it?” Sarah snarled, a stiff wind blowing her mid-back length hair behind her.  Unbeknownst to the pair, a vicious storm began to form over the harbor town.

“He needs to be controlled Sarah, he needs to be forced to do his job.  I was gonna hand over his heart to the East India Trading company,” the captain confessed.  Silence stretched between them for several seconds before a bolt of lightning and crash of thunder came, punctuating the female captain’s leap at the much taller male.

“Don’t fucking pretend that’s the only reason you’re doing it Sparrow!  What are they offerin’ ya fer his soul?” she hissed, her hands wrapping around his throat and squeezing slightly as she glared down at him.  Her hands shook on his neck as the sea roiled and foamed beside them, the storm quickly worsening.

“My freedom and my ship,” the stunned male whispered, making no move to fight her as her hands tightened just a tiny bit more.

“So you would trade another’s freedom for your own.  I thought I knew you Jack!” she spat, before she straightened, and backed away from him.  The color of her eyes closely resembled the stormy ocean as she glowered down at him with sheer rage and betrayal.

“Sarah, if he isn’t stopped...,” the infamous pirate began, pulling himself into a sitting position.  He was stopped by a downright vicious sounding snarl.

“No, you do not get to call me that anymore.  We are no longer friends Jack Sparrow.  If I ever see you again, I will kill you,” she hissed just as the rain started to pour down on the pair.  Then the livid female marched to her house to pack.  She couldn’t allow Jack to go through with his plan, she  had to find Jones’ heart and return it.  Her first stop would be Tortuga for information, beyond that she would have to wing it.

Muffled male voices whispering in worried tones.  Groaning, Flame opened her eyes painfully; feeling like the lids had been weighed down by cement.  “How much longer?” came the gruff, worried voice of Jones just as dim light flooded her vision.  Even this small amount of illumination was too much for her sensitive eyes and she let out an instinctual whimper as she shielded them.

“Not much longer, a few minutes,” came Jack’s voice from much closer.  She could feel his aura of heat as he came to stand next to her bed and leaned over to examine her.

“Are you okay Sarah?” he whispered in a quiet, low tone voice, something she was very grateful for.

“Ugh, my head,” she hissed, keeping her aching eyes covered.  Suddenly the room went a bit darker and she sensed someone else come to stand by her bed.

“We be headin’ to Calypso now.  Sparrow be fetchin’ her fer me since neither o’ us c’n do it,” came a very familiar but slightly different voice.  It almost sounded like Jones before he had gained the tentacled upper lip but that was impossible.  Her hearing had to be affected by the water she had been in.

Forcing her hand away from her eyes, Flame looked up at the pair beside her.  At first they were no more than blurs but they gradually came into focus.  As her vision cleared, her eyes became wider and wider with disbelief from what she saw.  There, looking as if he had never been cursed for shirking his duties, was Davy Jones.  The only difference between what she saw now and years ago was a thick, wild beard but it was undoubtably him.  Before she knew it, she was flinging herself at him, the captain’s impeccable balance being the only thing keeping them from collapsing to the floor.  Before he could voice just how confused he was, she was kissing his face all over as she cried tears of happiness.  “You’ve been forgiven,” she whispered over and over after each kiss, eventually winding up planting a very tender, loving one on his lips.

As soon as their lips met, it was like the floodgates opened and the long denied pair began to kiss in earnest; utterly ignoring their embarrassed companion.  Taking that as his cue to leave, Sparrow gave his former partner one last worried look before he left the cabin and shut the door.  As soon as he left, the couple broke their heated kiss to gaze into eachother’s eyes.  “Aye but I have yet t’forgive meself,” whispered the tortured male as he reached up to caress a soft cheek.  Flame only smiled, leaning into his touched as she returned it.

“There’s nothing to forgive.  If you had your heart, you wouldn’t have committed such atrocities,” she reasoned, leaning her forehead against his as she kissed the tip of his nose.

“I still committed them, especially against you.  I can never begin to make up for what I have done to you,” the gaunt male murmured, pain clear in his lightly accented voice as his stormy eyes met her turquoise ones.

“Davy, please, it is more than enough for me that the seas themselves have seen fit to forgive you.  Just know that I forgave you long before I found you, please try to do the same,” the weak female pleaded, her strength rapidly leaving and causing her to go limp against him.

“Sarah!” he gasped, picking her up and laying her back in bed.

“I’m okay, just a bit weak,” Flame whispered, her vision blurring as she rapidly lost consciousness.  All the stress and lack of food had finally caught up to her frail body and she simply found herself unable to remain awake.

“Hang on fer me just a bit longer, please.  Ye... ye don’t know what it’ll do t’me if I lose ye,” he pleaded in a thick voice as he grabbed one of her hands in his.

“Land ho!” came the very welcome announcement from above, only making him relax slightly.

All too soon, Jones had to leave the unconscious pirate to direct his crew.  A crew that had also returned to a human state and seemed much more happy in general.  Just seeing their joy grated on his aching heart and he found it very hard not to slip into the old habit of browbeating them.  Giving the holder of his heart a kiss on the forehead, the fierce male grabbed a cane out of habit before realizing he no longer needed it and flung it aside before leaving.  Once on the deck, he saw Jack directing some of the more pliant members of the crew in readying the longboats.  “Get to helpin’ ye lazy slugs!” the once again human captain bellowed, making his crew snap into action.

It didn’t take long before Sparrow was ready and he didn’t wait for Jones’ okay to go either.  In fact, the dreadlocked male flung himself into the boat with a couple crew members and began to lower to the water.  “Be lively now Sparrow!  Sarah be fadin’ fast,” Davy hollered down to a man he had hated with every fiber of his being.  Under different circumstances, Jack would be in his brig and on his way to the ‘Locker’.  Right now though, the two men had a mutual interest and only wanted to work together to achieve it.

“Aye Cap’n,” came the cocky male’s shocking reply as the boat hit the water.  Then they were pulling for shore for all they were worth, as if the Kraken was on their tail.  Now the legendary pirate found himself in the position of having to wait and found himself at an utter loss of what to do.

As soon as the bow hit the sand, Jack was off and running into the thick, dark jungle; not bothering to wait for the small crew to follow.  Right now he needed to find Calypso and he knew just where to go.  Granted, he hadn’t been here in years but the lay of the land was the same.  In fact, the deeper he got into the thick trees, the more spooky and dark things became; a highly encouraging fact.  He just had to pray the trapped Goddess was in a giving mood, let alone willing to help her romantic rival.  The ocean deity wasn’t exactly known for her giving and understanding nature.  She was honestly more likely to flat out refuse or pretend to help just to get to Sarah and kill her.

A few minutes later he saw the tiny voodoo hut the deity resided in and found himself honestly hesitant to approach.  Anger and jealousy seemed to pour off the wooden hut in waves, as if the woman inside knew just what was going on.  Taking a deep breath to steel himself, the tanned male began to stride toward the tiny house and knocked loudly on the door.  The closed entry slowly swung open after his fist hit it once, a fact that made the pirate extremely nervous.  Only the knowledge that he was doing this to save Sarah gave him the courage to cross the threshold into the dark, foreboding room.

As soon as he was inside, the door slammed shut; leaving him with only the fire under a cauldron for light.  “I know why ye be comin’ Jack Sparrow,” came a hateful, Jamaican accented, female voice as Calypso slowly stepped into the wavering light.  The firelight danced off her dark brown skin as her bottomless eyes narrowed angrily.

“Please, you’re the only one we know who has any power to help,” the pirate captain begged slipping to his knees slowly as he lowered his head in supplication.

“What ye be askin’ of me is th’ height of cruelty!  How c’n ye be so heartless as t’ask me t’save th’one that would take him from me?” the changed Goddess hissed, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks as she glared down at the man at her feet.

“She can’t steal what you’ve never claimed,” Jack retorted that last of his patience snapping as he shot to his booted feet.  Who was she to harp on what was going on with Jones when she had never shown a lick of interest herself.  It was her inattention that had started this mess to begin with.

Calypso was not pleased, in fact her nostrils flared as she drew herself to her full height.  “How dare ye be sayin’ something about my relationship,” she snarled, the danger and tension growing in the small room and her powers began to flare.

“Weren’t ye the one who hasn’t shown up once in his entire time of service,” the infamous pirate bit out, causing a tense silence to fill the hut.  Then her rage exploded and he suddenly found himself transported back to the deck of the ‘Dutchman’, the fuming deity striding toward the Captain’s Cabin.

Jones, who had been pacing the deck, jumped at the sudden appearance but didn’t waste time following his betrothed.  “Calypso!” he called, getting her attention immediately.  The dark skinned female turned to glower at the captain, her power making her rage oppressive and intimidating.  Yet the long jilted male didn’t shrink back from her ire, instead standing his ground and returning her glare with one of his own.

“Afore ye start, ye have no right t’even be jealous.  Ye have never shown in centuries while the woman in me cabin has shown up fer 3 decades in a row.  She has shown me more care in our entire time engaged,” Jones whispered, a sad look on his bearded face as he watch the woman he had traded his mortality for.

His declarations only seemed to make the woman more angry and yet guilty at the same time.  “I be sorry fer th’wrongs I have committed against ye but ye have t’ understand tis but me nature,” the sea goddess whispered, a bit of the pressure in the air receding as she subsided just slightly.

“Aye, tha’ may be but a man needs more than empty promises,” the transporter of souls replied, moving slowly to stand between her and the door.

“If ye aim t’harm her instead o’ helpin’ then I won’t be hesitatin’ t’protect her,” the taller man warned, drawing out his cutlass and pointing it at her.  Calypso only looked down at the blade, a shocked, yet resigned look on her freckled face.

“Ye must really love her,” the Goddess sighed in a defeated, accented voice before simply disappearing and reappearing in the cabin.  Once inside, she used her powers to seal the door and stared down at the sickly woman on the dilapidated bed.

“If I am t’give what’s mine t’ye, I need to take th’measure o’ ye meself,” Calypso hissed, her dark eyes narrowing as her powers began to flare and she entered Flame’s dreams.


	10. Measure of a Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Been a weird ride but it’s finally over. I hope you guys enjoyed this fic!

Darkness, emptiness and a sensation of floating.  Yet, somewhere in the empty void, she could feel a distant presence.   _ ‘ Where am I?” _ she tried to call, only to hear no noise leave her lips.

_ ‘Do you truly love him?’ _ asked an accented, echoey voice from inside her head; making her brain hurt.

_ ‘Who do you mean?  Where am I?  Who are you?’ _ she gasped, struggling in the nothing that suspended her body.  She had no sense of who she was or where she was, only that she didn’t want to be here.

_ ‘Do ya love him?!’ _ came the insistent, jamaican voice, now right beside her ear.  Flinching, the blind female turned to look at more darkness.

_ ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about!  The only person my heart belongs to is Jones!  What the Hell am I doing here?’ _ she snarled at the voice, only to have her vision filled with white as she was teleported somewhere else.

Gasping, Flame found herself on all fours on the deck of the ‘Dutchman’; Mr. Gibbs, Jones and Jack looking down at her with equal amounts of concern.  A bit disoriented, the former captain shot to her feet and looked around in a panic.  “Sarah, what’s botherin’ ya,” Davy whispered, taking her half clothed arms in a tight grip.

“I... how did I get here?” she gasped, looking around with a dazed expression.

_ ‘Prove yer love fer him, prove ya would give anything fer him,’ _ hissed the voice from earlier making her heart leap in fear.  It was then a sudden jolt made the entire crew stagger.

Looking up, the piratess saw an Imperial ship ramming into them; soldiers pouring onto the ship of the dead.  “Stay here,” Jones bit out, his blue eyes holding an urgency as he spun to join his crew in the fight.  Flame watched for a few seconds before she saw a colonel raising his sword to stab her beloved in the back.  Time seemed to freeze as her body launched forward, barely shoving the legendary male out of the way before the cruel blade plunged down; severing her spine.  She had just enough time to hear Jones screaming her name before reality faded away and she found herself suspended in the void once more.

The blood that had once been flowing from her mouth was now gone, as was the crippling pain in her spine and the sensation of dying.   _ ‘What the fuck is going on?!  Why are you doing this to me?’ _ she screamed, all sense of herself gone again.  All that was left was an aching feeling where her heart should be.  Just seeing Jones that close to death had been deeply distressing.  If she had been a few seconds later... she couldn’t even bear to think of it.

_ ‘Would you truly lay down your life for his?’ _ came the disbelieving, female voice by her ear, making the ex-captain dearly wish she could claw her tormentor’s face.

_ ‘ Over and over again if I could,’ _ Sarah bit out, gasping when the dark skinned face of Calypso appeared right beside her head.  The freckled Goddess sneered cruelly, her dreds hanging in her face and giving her a disheveled appearance.

_ ‘I do not believe ye,’ _ the deity hissed, her brown eyes narrowing as the scene whirled and changed once more.

Next thing she knew, she saw Jack lunging at Jones with his sword drawn.  In a split second she was blocking the blow with her own body, spitting her blood into her beloved’s face as he released a cry of anguish.  Then the scene flashed to Jones very nearly getting beheaded by Mr. Gibbs and she once again threw herself into action.  Again and again the scene changed, each a different, more horrifying scene of Jones’ possible death.  Again and again, she felt her own death before having to save him again.   _ ‘No, no ye canna love him like I do,’ _ the angry Goddess snarled as the scenes began to blur together.

Finally she found herself suspended in the void again, her body aching from exertion.   _ ‘ Please, please stop.  Just seeing him so close to death over and over is tearing me apart.  I’ll do whatever you want, just leave Davy alone,’ _ she begged, her chest heaving as she panted.  Calypso’s head appeared beside her head, a stricken expression on her floating face.

_ ‘I would never hurt him,’ _ the sea deity murmured as the room swirled and the scene changed once more.  Sarah could only close her eyes, praying to any other deity that was watching that this torture would just end.  She had no more energy left to protect any more phantoms, leaving the option of sitting and watching someone she loved get killed.

When the spinning stopped, Flame was almost afraid to open her eyes.  “Calypso, if ya hurt her I swear t’ya that I will find some way t’make yer life even more miserable,” came a snarled, muffled threat that sounded like it came from the other side of the door.

“It would break ya t’ see him hurt, just as it would me,” came the accented voice of before, making the pirate open her turquoise eyes.  Right beside her bed was a rather human looking Calypso, giving her a thoughtful glance.

“Of course I would, even in this state; I would give all I had to see him safe,” Flame replied, her voice a rough whisper from her screaming.  She must have been calling for Jones during the whole ordeal, no doubt adding to the captain’s distress.  The Goddess of the seas only nodded before getting to her feet and taking her pale chin in her hand.

“Take care o’ his heart better than I did child,” she whispered in a strained voice, shining tears flowing down her chocolate cheeks as her lips pressed against the ailing pirate’s.  The pair was surrounded in a bright, warm light as Flame felt her wasted limbs fill with life once more.

“I will be watchin’ ya both,” Calypso murmured, her voice filling the room as her body slowly faded into the light and disappeared.

As soon as the deity was gone, the door was swinging open to reveal three men fighting to get inside at once.  The trio were currently fighting for loudest as well as the coveted position of being first in the room.  Giggling a bit at the sight, Flame swung her legs over the side of her borrowed bed; marveling at her healthy body.  It had been years since she had been a normal weight, she even looked fat to herself even though she was on par with other women.  “Sarah,” Jones and Jack whispered in unison, both scrambling to pull themselves in and succeeding with a pop; sending all three flying into a far wall.  Despite that, all three were on their feet and rushing to her side; all of them asking her something different at the same time.

“One at a time!  One at a time,” begged the stunned female, her head beginning to swim from the sheer commotion.

“What happened!” a newly shaven Jones urged, his grayish blue eyes full of concern as he shoved his way to her and took one of her hand in his.  His gaunt face was pale and strained as he searched her for injury, his lips pressing against the back of her hand over and over.

“She... tested me, then basically gave us her blessing and left.  I’m cured Davy,” the newly rejuvenated female explained, shuddering at the unwelcome memory.  The ferrier of the dead only stared at her for a few moments, barely breathing or blinking; as if afraid this would all disappear.

The silence stretched between the pair as reality began to sink in.  She was cured, Jones had been forgiven and they basically had the blessing of a Goddess to go forward with their relationship.  “Sarah, fer so long I’ve wanted...  I don’t even know where to...,” the stunned pirate whispered before wrapping his shaking arms around her, tears rolling down his bony cheeks.  Behind him, Mr. Gibbs and Sparrow looked at the pair before looking at one another.

“Well, we’ll be right outside if ye be needin’ us,” the older man murmured, leading a defeated but resigned looking Jack behind him.  This went largely ignored by Jones and Flame, the pair embracing tightly as the legendary pirate wept silently.

“Sarah, oh Sarah.  I can finally show you, finally tell you just how I have felt for you these long decades,” gasped Jones as he pulled back to pepper her face with achingly tender kisses.

“All th’ long centuries afore, ye made up fer them all in three decades.  I cannot begin to tell ya how much it meant t’me that ye kept comin’ back, that ye came t’search fer me,” his voice thick with emotion as his quivering lips tentatively met hers.

“I loved you Davy, I never stopped loving you.  Not even when ye gave up yer human looks and yer heart,” the former captain whispered, wrapping her own arms around his pale neck and placing her own kisses on his face.  Jones pulled back to respond, stopping when the dark haired female placed her fingertips on his lips.

“Before you even start, I already told you.  There is nothing to forgive.  After how long Calypso ignored you, who could blame you for tearing out your heart to escape the pain,” she whispered before meeting his mouth passionately, her tongue swiping along his as he sat on the dilapidated mattress.  Then Flame was pushing the taller male onto his back, straddling his lithe hips as she smiled down at him.

Looking down at the changed male caused a rush of nostalgia to wash through the pirate and she found herself back on the beach that first day she had seen him on the beach.  She had been but sixteen and she still found her heart drawn to him.  Heaving a deep sigh, the forty-two year old leaned down nip gently at his neck as her shaking hands slid his coat of his broad but lean shoulders.  “I have been waiting for this moment for thirty-six years, do not ruin it with your ‘what ifs’ and ‘should have beens’,” the ocean eyed femme begged, her shaking fingers undoing his buttons one at a time.

“Sarah,” Jones breathed in a gruff voice, his hips moving in small circles beneath her as his lips began to return her fervor.  His hands came up to grasp her hips just as her own shoved his rough, cotton shirt open and spanned on his scarred chest.

“Just show me how you feel now,” Flame hissed, her turquoise eyes flashing as she smirked down at the feared captain beneath her.  She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a rush of power seeing such a legendary monster staring up at her like his whole world hinged on her next actions.  Then her lips were capturing a pink nipple as his long fingered hands wrapped in her butt length, midnight hair.

Jones let out a throaty groan, his erection pressing against her stomach through his pants.  Just knowing she had this much power over his body caused a rush of confidence and lust to arc through her, pooling in her lower stomach and tightening harshly.  Releasing his flesh to lean back and look at his gaunt face, the panting female impatiently pulled her borrowed top over her head; wanting there to be as little clothing between them as possible.  The sound the pirate beneath her released caused her confidence to shoot up another notch and she found herself purring at him in return.

Lifting her hips so she could reach between their bodies, Flame undid Jones’ pants with impatient hands before tearing her own off her body.  As soon as their lower garments were gone, the ex-captain pressed her aching slit against his pulsing manhood; drawing a hiss from both of them as their hips jolted upward in unison.  Releasing a shuddering keen, the lust fogged female leaned forward to meet his lips as she ground herself along him.

Suddenly she found herself on her back, Jones staring down at her with some of his dark hair hanging free of his ponytail.  Then he was removing the clothing adorning his torso before pressing his lips to hers in a possessive, needy kiss.  “Sarah,” he snarled against her mouth before he began blazing a trail down her pale body.  Losing so much weight so rapidly had resulted in innumerable stretchmarks but the mighty pirate didn’t seem to mind, kissing each one until he reached the junction between her legs.

“This’ll be one of the few times I wish I still had that blasted beard of tentacles,” Davy rumbled in an oddly lascivious tone, moments before his tongue met her weeping womanhood.  Flame’s back arched up in response, a moan leaving her as her thighs spread around his head.  Her hands flew to his hair and held on, small keens leaving the panting woman when he latched onto her pearl and began to suck.

With each swipe of his skilled tongue, it felt like balls of electricity were exploding inside her core.  His name left her lips in small gasps as her hips writhed beneath him, her body subconsciously chasing the elusive sensation building inside her.  “Give me yer pleasure,” Jones rumbled against her junction, drawing a strangled cry from the writhing piratess.

“D-davy, oh Gods,” Flame gasped out, her fingers winding in his slicked back hair as she stiffened and fell apart beneath him.

Before she could even gather her wits, he was placing himself at her entrance as he nuzzled her neck.  “My Sarah,” he sighed as he entered her, every muscle in his lean body tensing and shuddering.

“My Davy,” she replied, her legs wrapping around his waist as he began to move.  Flame whimpered as pleasure coiled thickly within her, the pressure growing more and more intense.  Then she was exploding, her hands coming up to grab Jones’ head and neck as her hips helplessly undulated.  Her voice breathlessly cried his name as he stiffened and spilled within her.

Losing consciousness as she came down from her high, the female was aware of Jones kissing her all over as he pulled her into his strong arms.  “I love ya Davy,” whispered the sleepy, sated female, dozing off as the ferrier of the dead pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you too Sarah, from now til the end of time,” the newly human pirate rasped, his stormy gaze fixed on the door.  No matter how tired he was, he would watch her while she slept.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _**Months Later** _ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

So much had happened, it seemed hard to believe only eight and a half months had passed.  The first thing that had happened was a reconciliation between Jones and Sparrow, an event that stunned all parties involved.  Even the participants themselves seemed shocked as they shook hands before they parted company.  “Take good care of her,” Jack had hissed before he scrambled across a plank that led to the ‘Pearl’.  Jones had stiffened for a moment before nodding and wrapping an arm around Flame’s shoulders.

It wasn’t long after that they found out she was pregnant.  In fact, they had found that out due to an unfortunate morning revolving around her vomiting.  At first they had panicked, thinking the former captain had relapsed into her previous illness.  After a visit to a ‘healer’ in Tortuga, it was found out she was carrying a child.  A fact she had been scared to reveal to Jones for days after.  With everything he had been through, Flame found herself a bit afraid of how he would react.

When he became insistent on knowing why she could keep down little food, the once fierce pirate had told him.  All her fears had turned out unfounded when the feared captain wrapped her in a tight hug and peppered her face with kisses.  His hand had found it’s way to her stomach and rested there, moving in small circles despite the fact there was no outward sign of their child yet.  After that day he hadn’t strayed further from her side than necessary, making sure she wanted for nothing.

As the months had worn on, the noble looking man had grown more and more protective; asking her if she was alright if she so much as hiccupped.  As much as she found his concern adorable, she was beginning to get tired of his coddling.  When it started getting closer to when she would be giving birth, the unflappable Jones had dissolved into a nervous wreck.  He now paced almost constantly when he wasn’t asking if she was alright.  The strain of his worry showed all over his gaunt, pale face, giving him the appearance of a living skeleton.  It got so bad that Flame had finally insisted they pick up Jack just so she would have someone to help her stay sane.

As it turned out, having the infamous male around had helped significantly; helping Jones relax enough to get some much needed rest.  Unlike the ferryman of souls, Jack seemed to know a bit about pregnant woman and handled this a lot more calmly than either of them suspected.  Chuckling at her memories, the heavily pregnant pirate ran a hand over her huge dome.  If it hadn’t been for her former enemy, both her and Davy would have gone batty long ago.

“Hey, you doing okay?” came a gentle baritone from the door, drawing the attention of the reclining female.

“Yeah, the pains are still quite a ways apart,” she assured her would-be midwife, closing her sea-green eyes as a pain washed through her.

“Call me when they get closer,” her old friend urged, making her chuckle slightly.  Jones was stuck taking a boatful of souls to the afterlife, leaving her in the capable hands of Sparrow.  With how things were progressing, Flame had little doubt her beloved would return in time for the birth of his firstborn.

Hours later and Jack was holding her hand as she struggled to relax through the latest intense pain.  Her ebony hair clung to her white forehead as she breathed through the agony wracking her body.  “Won’t be much longer now Sarah.  Blast it, where the Hell is Jones?” the dreadlocked captain hissed, a tanned hand spreading over her contracting dome.

“Mmmmnnn,” was the most the laboring pirate could respond with, her body shuddering as her waters broke with a pop.

As if summoned, in the door stood Jones; a hectic expression on his pale face.  As soon as his stormcloud gaze landed on his lover, his was at her side in seconds.  Nodding to his fellow captain, Jack moved to kneel between his former partner’s shuddering thighs.  Giving the panting female an apologetic glance, Sparrow began to fiddle with her swollen entrance with his fingers.  “You’re fully dilated dear.  Push on your next pain,” he urged, grabbing a blanket and positioning his arms to catch.  Taking a deep breath and grasping Davy’s hand, Flame nodded before doing as was asked of her.

Soon she felt something large drop into her tight canal, drawing a gasp from the burning sensation of being stretched.  Clasping Jones’ hand to distract herself from her discomfort, Flame pushed as hard as she could; collapsing backwards as soon as the pain ended.  Unfortunately she didn’t get long to rest before she was pushing once more, small whimpers of pain leaving her as her child began to slowly crown.  “You’re doing good Sarah.  Your baby’s starting to crown,” Jack assured her unnecessarily.  Leaning her head against her lover’s shoulder and releasing a small sob, the laboring captain pushed until the pain ended; her body sagging once it was over.

“I’m right here,” came an encouraging rasp in her ear, helping the agony filled woman find the strength to push with her next contraction.  Bit by bit she felt more of the child’s head leave her, making her grit her teeth from the burning sensation.

“Almost there,” came a soothing baritone from between her shaking legs, making the pain dazed pirate groan in frustration when the latest wave ended.  It felt like she was midway through pushing out a watermelon and she just wanted this torture to end.

All too soon the next pain came, her body forcing her to push hard; Jones’ accented voice murmuring encouragement in her ear.  Suddenly she felt the head pop free and she released the breath she had been holding at the relief of pressure.  Despite her exhaustion, her body forced her to push again; her teeth grinding together as she felt the shoulders start to come.  “Oh f-fuck,” Flame snarled, burrowing her sweaty face into Jones’ chest when the burning in her womanhood overwhelmed her.

“Shhh, it’s almost over,” the feared male husked, his voice sounding strained from helplessness and worry.  One of his callused hands moved through her midnight hair in a soothing manner, helping distract the birthing female from the agony she was feeling.

Soon her body was forcing her to push once more, drawing frightened, pained whimpers from Flame.  Then she felt something leave her, followed quickly by more stretching.  “You’re doing great.  Nearly there Sarah,” encouraged the voice from between her legs as the other shoulder popped free.  Then there was a vague pulling sensation as their child entered the world and began to squall.

“A little girl,” the voice she remembered was Jack announced as she felt something slimy leave her in a rush.

Jones released a breath neither of them realized he had been holding before his lips met her sweaty forehead.  “Thank you Sarah,” he rasped, tears slipping down his bony cheeks as he took his cleaned and wrapped daughter from his former enemy.

“No Jones, thank you.  My life would have never been the same if I hadn’t met you,” the tired piratess confessed, her eyes slipping closed as she drifted off into slumber.  Her life would be hard and full of dangers but she had never felt more at peace in her entire life.

  
  
  
  
_ The End _


End file.
